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thetriumphantpanda · 2 years ago

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retrograde, we'd shake the frame of your car

Oh look, it's a new instalment of our favourite neighbourhood DILF. Thank you so much for your continued support of this silly little series of mine. Please continue to reblog, comment and like if you're enjoying this!

Pairing | dbf!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Summary | Joel drives you out of the way of prying eyes for a 'date'

Word Count | 3.4k

Warnings | As usual, just dbf!Joel in general, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, fingering (f), unprotected PiV sex (Don't do this) and talk of contraceptives.

Part 1 | Part 2

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The late afternoon sun is beating through the kitchen windows as you rinse the plates in the sink before stacking them in the dishwasher. You smile to yourself as you place them exactly where Joel had told you during your party, before your mind wanders to more unsavoury thoughts of him.

Your parents are sat in front of the television as you wrap up clearing up for dinner, making sure the leftovers are packaged in the fridge. You’re about to grab a cold beer for your dad to enjoy whilst he watches his shows when your phone vibrates in your pocket.

Joel.

Fancy going for a drive?

Sounds ominous. This hasn’t been your plot all along has it? Sweeten me up so you can take me down a back road and murder me?

Joel.

Damn. You caught me. Guess I’ll just have to take you down a back road and fuck you instead.

Give me twenty and pick me up at the end of the road.

You pull out the beer for your dad but leave the bottle you were going to take for yourself, walking it through to the living room. You hand it to him but don’t sit down like usual.

“I’m gonna go for a drive,” You announce, “Been cooped up here all day, just want to get out for a bit.”

Your mom looks up for her gossip magazine and raises an eyebrow, “You be careful now,” She warns, “And be back by eleven, okay?”

“I’m twenty-five mom, do I still need a curfew?”

“Whilst you’re living under our roof without paying rent, yes you do.”

You sigh but relent. You must admit she is right. You hadn’t wanted to stay longer in New York once you’d graduated, thinking the job market in Austin would be less competitive, but it was still a slog trying to find a job that paid well enough that after your student loan payments were gone, you still had money to enjoy life.

You grab your keys and head out of the door, driving your car a few streets over to make it look like you did indeed go for a drive on your own, parking it up in the parking lot of the church. You say a quick prayer of forgiveness to the Lord for leaving your car in his driveway so you could go and live in sin for a few hours, before you’re jogging the few streets back over to wait on the corner of the street for Joel.

Within minutes he’s pulling up, rolling his window down with a wicked smile on his face, “How much for a few hours, sugar?” He finishes with a wink.

“I’m outta your price range, Miller.” You shoot as you round the front of his truck and slip into the passenger seat.

“Huh, weird,” He comments as he pulls away from the curb and starts driving, “Last time I checked you were free for me.”

“Well then, aren’t you lucky?”

“Very.” He says with a smile, as he free hand snakes to rest on the skin of your thigh, squeezing gently as he continues to drive to God knows where.

You smile when you realise he’s pulling the truck into the reserve a little ways out of the suburbs. You’d been here before, sometimes on your own when you needed to clear your head, Sarah had asked to go hiking one weekend when Joel and Tommy were both working, and you think you briefly remember a high school boyfriend bringing you here so he could kiss you.

The spot that he pulls into is secluded. There are trees that shade the small area that he parks in but there’s still a nice view of the lake through the windscreen of the car. The sun is starting to set, creating a mix of orange and red hues in the sky and it’s quite a romantic spot, you think to yourself.

“You knew exactly where to come,” You muse as you undo your seatbelt, “You bring all your girls out here, Joel?”

You turn to look at him and he has a smirk splayed across his lips, “You want the truth?”

“Always.”

He chuckles, “I used to bring Sarah’s mom here, when things were still good,” He points to a tree in front of you, “I actually think Sarah was conceived against that tree over there,” You gasp in shock at his admission, swatting at his bicep which has him laughing, “You asked for the truth!” He accuses.

“So, you bought me here to reminisce?” You ask, “Gonna fuck me against the tree to relive your youth?”

“You want me to fuck you against the tree?”

You shake your head, “Not really, don’t think my hips and my back are up to the job.”

“Don’t be so silly,” He chuckles, “You’re the young and agile one out of the two of us,” He’s finally undoing his own seatbelt, “But that’s good because I definitely don’t have the stamina to hold you up and fuck you like you deserve.”

You look out to the lake, you can see the slight breeze is lapping the water to the shore and it’s so hot that you think dipping your toes into the water might offer some relief, “Wanna dip your toes, Miller?” You ask, nodding your head to the water.

You don’t give him much time to respond, opening your door and stepping down from the truck as you break out into a jog down to the water’s edge. You can hear him open his door and the crunch of the gravel under his shoes as he moves to join you. By the time he catches up to you, you’ve already shed your sandals and you’re into the water up to your mid-calf. It’s not as relieving as you thought – the sun has been beating down on the water all day, so it’s like a lukewarm bath.

Joel is kicking off his boots and tucking his socks into the top of them. You watch intently as he rolls the bottoms of his jeans up past his ankles before he’s wading into meet you. You can sense he doesn’t want to get his jeans wet, so he’s not moving any further once his ankles are covered in the water, so you wade into the shore a little, scratching the itch of desire to be closer to him.

When you’re within reach, he’s taking hold of your wrist, turning your gently before his other arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest. You lean your head against his shoulder as you listen to the sounds of the breeze rustling the trees, the water lapping at the shore and the odd whistle of birdsong.

“This is nice.” You mumble, turning your head to look up at him.

“Yeah,” Joel sighs, bending down just enough to kiss you chastely on the lips, “Wish I could take you out properly, darlin’.”

You spin in his arms so you’re facing him now, a teasing grin spread out on your mouth, “Has Joel Miller brought me here on a date?” You tease.

“Maybe I did,” He smiles at you, “There’s even a cooler with beer in the truck.”

He leads you from the water, stopping to let you put your shoes back on, so you don’t hurt your feet on the gravel. He motions for you to sit in the bed of his truck once he’s laid down a blanket for you. He pops the cap off two bottles of beer, making sure he insists he’s only having one so he’s safe to drive you back later.

He settles into one of the corners, letting you sit between his thighs, leant back on his chest. It’s weird, sitting here like this, not worrying about the fact someone might see you, or hear you, but you can’t say that you hate it. After a week and a half of stolen moments and sneaky fucking, you wonder what it is the both of you are doing together, but you don’t bring it up. You want to enjoy this before launching into the inevitable question of ‘what are we?’

You finish your beer quickly, Joel opting to savour the singular drink he’s allowing himself, but he tells you to help yourself to another from the cooler, which you do, “This all seems very wholesome Miller.” You comment.

You feel him shrug behind you, “Just wanted ya to know I’m not just here to get my dick wet,” You hear him take a sip, “I mean, I am because it’s fantastic, but I don’t wantcha feeling like I’m usin’ ya.”

You want to add something meaningful to the conversation but you’re treading on dangerous ground. In all your fantasies about this situation it was never meant to be something serious. He was going to fuck you once, tell you it was a mistake and that would have been it. Nowhere had you imagined being led against him in the back of his truck like this.

The sun is setting fast now, and you can sense that the darkness won’t be far behind, then you’ll need to go home. You put your half-finished beer back in the cooler, moving around so you’re still between Joel’s thighs, but just kneeling to face him now, “Kinda want you to get your dick wet now though.”

“That so?” He raises an eyebrow and finishes the rest of his beer in a big mouthful, “You’ll need to come here then, won’t you?”

His hands are dragging down your sides to reach your hips before he’s shifting his legs, so they’re not as spread, settling you onto his lap in a similar way to how you’d been the first time you’d done this. You settle yourself down on his lap and let your lips crash to his.

He’s squeezing his hands on your hips, gently moving you in his lap so you’re grinding against him, just enough that there’s friction for both of you, whilst he opens his mouth when you rub your tongue along his plush bottom lip. You let your tongue mix languidly with his own as you continue to grind your hips into his, there’s no need to rush, not when you don’t have to worry about your parents walking in on anything, so you’re going to savour every second of this.

“Look so good on my lap, pretty girl,” He praises when you pull away, just a touch, from his lips to get some air, “Feel what you do t’me?” He’s bucking his hips up into yours where you can feel his growing erection in his jeans.

You move forward to kiss him again. This time it’s more desperate, a clash of teeth and tongue. You take his bottom lip between your teeth at one point and nibble, which causes a hiss from his lips of mixed pleasure and pain. His hands have dropped from your hips and their now rooted under your skirt, gripping fingers into the meat of your ass so hard that you think you might bruise there tomorrow.

You let a moan fall from your lips when he bucks his hips into you again, feeling the bulge in the front of his jeans rub at the front of your underwear, but it’s not enough anymore.

“Joel-” You gasp, “Need- more.”

“What do you need?” He whispers, “Tell me, pretty girl, and I’ll give it to you.”

“Want you to make me come.”

He doesn’t say anything in reply, just moves his hands to hook into the waistband of your underwear. You lift your hips enough so he can pull them down, but he doesn’t seem concerned about taking them all the way off just yet.

“I’ve got a feeling of déjà vu.” You breath out, referencing the fact that you’re in exactly the same position as you were that first time, even down to the way his thumb is teasing along the seam of your pussy right now.

“At least this time there’s no risk of your dad waking up and shooting me.”

“I kinda- ohhhhh,” You trail off as his thumb dips between your folds to gather your slick before achingly bringing his finger up to touch your clit, “I kinda like the risk.”

“Naughty girl,” He’s muttering, but he doesn’t seem to care all that much because he’s thumbing tight circles on your clit that have your hands gripping at his shoulders and your head thrown back in pleasure, “Might not be your daddy that catches us tonight, but still, plenty of opportunity for someone else to walk by and see me with my fingers in your pussy.”

He's keeping his thumb on your clit, but you feel one of his thick fingers slip inside of you and curl in the way he’s learned makes you come undone with minimal work. You listen as he chuckles when you start grinding your hips down into his hand, fucking yourself on his fingers, “Always so tight for me sweetheart.” He praises.

You’re letting out little gasps and moans as he works another finger inside of you, thumb never leaving your clit where it is rubbing tight and purposeful circles. You’re sure if anyone were to stumble upon you it would be hell of a sight. You with your head thrown back, grinding down onto Joel’s hand to meet the upward thrusts of his fingers, his name falling from your lips a mile and minute and Joel with his head buried in the crook of your neck, licking hot stripes with his tongue along your skin.

“Don’t stop,” You gasp out, “God I’m so fucking close Joel, don’t you dare stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it darlin’.” He mumbles against your hot skin.

Within seconds you’re clenching around his fingers and crying out into the canopy of the trees as he pushed you over the edge into oblivion. When you hear the shout of his name echo around you, you bite down on your bottom lip to stop any other sounds alerting someone to your presence as he works you through the aftershocks.

He’s pulling his fingers from you, looking straight into your eyes when he brings the fingers that were inside you to your lips, “Go on, baby, clean yourself off my fingers.”

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out. He presses the two fingers onto the flat of your tongue and you’re sucking them into your mouth, rubbing your tongue over them to clean your slick off him. It’s depraved but the look in his eyes makes it worth it, he’s hungry for you, looks like he’s about to devour you in a second.

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, replacing them with his own tongue. You can hear him groan when he tastes you on your own mouth, “Fuck, you taste so sweet, pretty girl.”

You don’t have the brain power to respond – instead, your hands grip his belt and start to undo it, pulling it through the beltloops. Then, he’s the one undoing the button on his jeans, tapping your hip for you to sit up so he can shuck them far enough down his thighs, along with his underwear, so that his cock is finally free.

Your pussy clenches around nothing as you feast your eyes upon it. Sure, you’d felt it inside of you not two days ago, you knew he was big, but seeing it in front of you was another story. What you wouldn’t give to wrap your lips around it right now. You would, but you were desperate for him to fill you.

You reach a hand out as you’re settling yourself back on his hips again, guiding his cock to rest at your tight heat, “Go on sweetheart,” He encourages, a hand coming to cup your cheek, “Sit yourself down on my cock for me.”

You do exactly as you’re told. Joel slides into your slick pussy easily, despite the stretch, and its mere seconds before you still yourself for a moment when he’s buried inside you to the hilt. You can hear his quickened breathing below you – it’s good to know he feels the same as you do when he’s enveloped in your warmth like this. You start to move your hips, grinding into his own and the friction it creates is delicious. You can feel him nudging the sweet spot inside you as he moves.

You look down at him, his eyes glazed over and his head leaning against the truck. He pushes himself forward as his hands lift your shirt up and over your head. You make no complaints when his fingers pull the straps of your bra down your shoulders and he pulls the cups down, freeing your tits in front of his face.

“Knew you’d have such pretty tits, baby.” He’s mumbling before he takes a nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over the hardened bud whilst his other hand is working on your other.

Everything that he’s doing is spurring you on. You feel him bring his knees up to rest against the back of your thighs, which gives you more leverage to start bouncing on his cock in earnest. His mouth doesn’t leave your chest except to switch from one nipple to the other, rolling each between his teeth, using the flat of his tongue to soothe each when he’s done.

You’re half aware of the fact that your combined ministrations are causing the truck to shake beneath you – a squeak added to the sounds of you both gasping each other’s names, but if Joel doesn’t seem to care, then neither do you.

“Baby, I’m gonna come,” He’s breathing out as his mouth finally pulls from your chest, one of his arms is wrapping itself around your waist, pressing you into his chest, the other rests on the back of your head, bringing your face to his neck where you start peppering kisses as he takes control, “So fuckin’ tight, and those pretty sounds you make in my ear, I’m close.”

He’s fucking up into you now. You’re so wet you can hear him sliding in and out of your pussy, the feeling of his balls slapping against your skin with every upward thrust just another added stimulant in what proves to be an orgasm that catches you by surprise.

As you’re moaning Joel’s name into his neck and clenching around him, you’re vaguely aware that he’s moaning your own, pulling your body off his cock as he spurts thick ropes of cum across your inner thighs. You stay still, listening to the sounds of your combined heaving breaths before he’s whispering into your ear, “That was fuckin’ close baby, didn’t wanna pull out.”

You’re leaning back a little, pressing a kiss to his cheek, your sex-scrambled brain talks before you think, “Maybe I should go and get the pill?”

His hands are cupping your face now, searching your eyes for evidence that you’re telling him the truth with your words, “You want that?” He asks, “Want me to be able to fill your sweet little pussy full of my cum?”

You’re climbing off him now and shimmying down the truck bed, picking up the edge of the blanket to wipe yourself clean, “I’ve never let anyone do that before,” You admit with a shrug as he’s pulling his jeans back up around his waist, “I think I’d like it though.”

“Well, I ain’t gonna pressure you sweetheart,” He says, following your lead in getting down from the truck bed, setting the blanket and cooler back in the truck, “But if you don’t wanna do that, might be an idea for me to start wearin’ something whilst we fuck, I’m sure as hell not wantin’ another kid right now, and I’m sure you don’t either.”

You can’t deny that he’s right, you’ll have to think about it when you don’t have a million and one hormones running through your body telling you to scream that you just want him to bend you back over and fill you up regardless, “I’ll have a think.” You promise as he’s wrapping his arms around your waist to kiss you.

What was supposed to be a quick peck on the lips turns into five minutes of you pressed up against the truck door, making out like horny teenagers who don’t want to say goodbye to each other. You suppose that really is what you are, just horny adults instead.

“Come on,” He says, breathless, when he pulls from your kiss, “Let’s get you home, sweetheart.”

Joel Miller Taglist - @winwin70@jessie8605@trulybetty@amanitacowboy@morning-star-joy@tieronecrush@leeeesahhh@babeincolor@beee-haw@kirsteng42@mirandablue1@sixxslut@impala1967dwinchester@flash2412@gimmebackmysoul@kelp-dreaming@gracie7209@voteforpedro09@brittmb115@karokaroxx@amb11@heartfairy @grumpy-the-tired @Lillilotus @doctorstatic@morallyinept@southernbe@elissaa@pop-sugar102@u-luciferssatanicdaughter@alyhull@purplerain44@harryleatherfit@lovely-ateez@emilianamason @bootyliciousposts @lorilane33 @casa-boiardi

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anabsolutetrainwreck · 4 years ago

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she plays songs i’ve never heard || h. styles

warnings: references to sex, swearing, mentions of alcohol, harry gets a lil pervy (pls don’t watch your neighbours get dressed), kissing, not proofread properly

word count: 1.8k

summary: when you get a new neighbour and his dog breaks into your garden, it sets off a chain reaction of events that might change your life...

The day he moved into the house next door seemed like a normal day for you. Sure, the sound of him actually moving in had woken you up early. The furniture being moved in through the small front door and the busy workers he’d hired banging about as if it wasn’t 8 in the morning. Begrudgingly, you had pulled yourself out of bed, poured yourself a glass of orange juice and buttered some crisp toast. Toast in hand, you watched from your kitchen window as grumpy Mr Bennet from across the road came out to shout at the new man and the workers. You’d managed to make out something about ‘too early on a weekend to be making that kind of noise’. Rolling your eyes, you went back upstairs to get dressed.

And that was that. You’d ordered a pizza for lunch and your mother had rung you during the afternoon to catch up. You told her about your new neighbour. And that was that.

It was, in fact, the day that the tattooed man’s dog broke into your back garden that your life seemed to change. You had been sat in your living room, watching The Sound of Music - a personal favourite of yours. Just as you were preparing to invest three hours of your life into the lives of the von Trapps, there was a loud bang on your door. Huffing quietly to yourself, you climbed off the sofa and left to open the door. And there, on the other side, was the tattooed neighbour. However, his tattoos were covered by a black hoodie but you could see a couple poking out beneath the hoodie’s cuffs. He was wearing shorts, exposing you to the tiny doodles of ink along his legs. His brown curls were hidden beneath a baseball cap. His features were hidden almost entirely in the shadows as it was dark outside and his cap sheltered him from whatever light there was. “Hi?” you said awkwardly.

“I’m so sorry, but my dog got into your backyard. Do you think you can go and get him for me?” he asked.

You were almost taken aback. Though not entirely sure what you’d expected when being confronted with your tattooed neighbour outside your house, you definitely didn’t expect him to be searching for his dog. You didn’t even know he had a dog.

You nodded slowly, “Sure. Come in, if you want.”

He thanked you, stepping in before you closed the door behind him. He shuffled awkwardly into the hallway, knocking your coat off the rack. It landed in a heap on the floor. “Shit, sorry,” he said quickly, bending down to pick it up. “Fuck! Sorry for swearing!”

“It’s okay, we’re both adults,” you smiled softly. You moved forward through the house, unlocking the back door. And there, chasing a wasp around the garden, was a small black dog. He wiggled in your arms as you picked him up carefully. You carried him into your house and back to Harry, who you found in the living room.

The dog licked your face before you place him in his owner’s arms. “Thanks. Sorry for the inconvenience - I know it’s late. I’m Harry by the way.”

He extended his hand for you to shake. “Y/N,” you replied, smiling up at him.

His grip on your hand was strong and firm. While you’d been away finding his little treasure, Gabriel (named after Peter Gabriel), he’d had a chance to explore your living room. The first time Harry saw you was when he happened to catch a glance of you reading in your back garden in your green shorts and sweater. It had been a hot day and you had a pair of sunglasses pushed up over your head. You looked ethereal with the sun highlighting your skin. From then, he’d tried to time his dog walks perfectly so he’d ‘accidentally’ bump into you on the way out. But, his attempts had come with little success. It was rather fortunate that Gabriel had escaped into your garden.

He’d actually jumped at the opportunity to come round and meet you in person. After all, he only knew your name because his other neighbour, Edna, had told him a bit about you after he asked. And when you’d invited him in, he was ecstatic. He couldn’t help but wander into your living room. He noticed The Sound of Music paused on your tv, wondering if he’d get to watch it with you one day. Maybe you’d exchange favourites - he’d watch The Sound of Music and you’d watch The Notebook. He then noticed a stack of books on the coffee table, with everything from Cervantes’ Don Quixote to Murakami’s Norwegian Wood. Your current read, Sally Rooney’s Normal People, was being held open by the tv remote. He wanted to ask what you thought of Norwegian Wood, after all, it was one of his favourites. But he refrained.

There was a glass of wine on a coaster, a half-eaten bowl of cheese pasta beside it. The room was littered with lovely plants - some were hanging down from shelves and others were standing up high beside the sofa. The walls were a soft grey, but they were drowned out by the green of the plants and the subtle pink tones littered throughout the room. “What’s this little guy’s name?” you asked, tickling behind the dog’s ear.

“His name’s Gabriel.”

“As in Peter?” you asked.

“Yep. You a fan?”

“Who isn’t?” you grinned in response. He knew you were a fan of Peter Gabriel. He’d seen your rack of records in the corner and he’d been gardening a few weeks ago and heard you listening to one of his albums in your own backyard. Upon examining your record collection, he’d noticed some Beatles albums, a bit of Lionel Richie, some Taylor Swift, a few ABBA albums, a sprinkle of Bee Gees and a plethora of Elton John albums. Relatively mainstream, but a mixture nonetheless.

“Exactly,” he agreed, before gesturing to the wine. “Special night?”

“Huh?” you’d replied.

“The wine?” he responded.

“Oh,” you laughed, “that’s cranberry juice.”

He flushed bright red as you laughed quietly. You placed a comforting hand on his arm, guiding him out of the room. “I think you’re a bit tired. I guess I’ll see you around then?” you offered a hopeful smile.

“Yeah,” he nodded, holding Gabriel at arm’s length as the dog tried licking his cheek. “I’d like that.”

“Great,” you smiled, closing the door. “What an odd man.”

You couldn’t help grin to yourself. He was strange, yes, but very kind. You resumed your position on your sofa, taking a sip of cranberry juice, and pressing play on The Sound of Music. What a bizarre evening…

Come a few days later, Harry found himself busying himself in his bedroom. Gabriel was sat on his bed, barking at Harry as he worked away at his computer, sending emails back and forth to his boss. It was only when he saw your own bedroom light flick on in the corner of his eye. You wandered in, throwing your phone down onto your bed. A white towel was wrapped tightly around your body and your hair was wet and your skin glistening.

He knew he shouldn’t look. He knew he shouldn’t stare. But he couldn’t help it. He watched as you pulled a silky pyjama set from your dresser. You seemed to examine it briefly before deciding it was good enough. And when you dropped the towel, he knew he was wrong for staring. He knew you’d never speak to him again if you caught his gaze on your naked body. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

You sighed as you stepped into your silk shorts and slipped on the matching shirt. As you finished doing up the buttons, you happened to glance up and catch Harry’s gaze. He’d been staring. Once he realised you’d caught him, he went bright red; redder than when he’d mistaken cranberry juice for wine. You smirked, challenging him to look away.

When he didn’t avert his gaze, you leaned over to grab your notebook from your desk. Embracing your 2009 Taylor Swift moment, you scribbled down: wanna come over? You laughed as you watched him scramble away from the window and out of his room.

It was thirty seconds later that you heard his knocking on your door. You dashed down to open it. There he was. Grabbing his hand, you pulled him into your house and up the stairs. And there you were, standing in your bedroom with your tattooed neighbour. “That was super pervy, you know?” you whispered, your faces inches apart.

“But you’re so beautiful,” he choked out, revelling in the feeling of your hands dancing up his arms.

“What if I told you I did it on purpose?”

“What?”

“Yeah, what if I left the light on so you could see me? What if I wanted you to stare?”

He couldn’t resist you any longer. He pressed his mouth to your own, pushing your wet hair out of your face. He slipped his attractively large hands under your thighs, lifting you into his arms, only to drop you down onto your bed. You squealed as you hit the soft mattress, laughing as he buried his face in your neck, his fingers fiddling to undo your buttons. And that was that.

Before you knew it, you were lying beside his naked figure, panting loudly. Both of your bodies were covered in a thin layer of sweat. “That was amazing,” he whispered, rolling over to face you. “You’re amazing.”

You smiled, kissing his nose, “Thanks. I think you’ll find you’re pretty sensational too. I need another shower now, though… wanna join?”

It was just after 11 when Harry left. The night had spiralled in the most perfect way. You switched off your bedroom light, slipping under your soft bedsheets. You were excited for the day to come - you’d asked him if he wanted to come over for a date. He agreed ecstatically.

The following morning, you woke up as you usually did. You were groggy, unexcited for the uneventful day to come. That was until you remembered your date that night with your tattooed neighbour. Up until 7, you had nothing to do but wait. You watched some episodes of a drama your mother had been raving about. You made yourself a sandwich for lunch. But finally, 6.30 rolled around and you peeled yourself off the sofa to get ready. At 7.02, Harry arrived. He knocked on your door and when you answered, his smile was bright and his eyes were alive with excitement. “Hello,” you grinned until you noticed something behind his back. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

He held out a bouquet of roses, “I got you some flowers… and I brought round a bottle of cranberry juice.”

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nachtyr-haus-comics · 3 years ago

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Day 4- Free day/ AU/ Crossover/OC day #1

Fanfiction Title: Scarlet

Summary: Matt receives a late birthday gift from Mello.

Thank you to @wammyweek for putting on this event!

_____

Matt had already paced around the apartment ten times. But, surely, another lap can’t hurt. First he rounds the coffee table and couch, then does one loop through the kitchen. He heads back to peek out the front window, but finds himself disappointed. Mello still isn’t back… With a loud sigh, the twelfth lap begins.

Before this, Matt was playing on his DS. The game, Pokemon Platinum, was enjoyable, but he’d already finished the main play through. Short of completing the Pokedex, there was little to keep his interest.

Before that, he attempted to watch videos online, and failed. It was the third internet outage that week alone. Matt could call customer service, again, but didn’t have the attention span for such a task.

And before that he made a valiant effort to wash dishes. Really, he fully intended to wash them. But after he collected the dirty ones and stacked them in the kitchen, all he could do was stare. The pile was rather impressive; he didn’t even know they owned that many bowls and plates. So he stood there, staring at the ominous pile, for a good 5 minutes. If only starting could make everything wash itself. It didn’t. But Mello wasn’t there to strong-arm him into completing the task, so the pile remained.

After the twelfth lap ends, Matt throws himself backwards against the couch. Legs dangle lazily off the armrest while his head is on a cushion. In many cases he could be patient, but not today; today he would receive a late birthday gift. The thought of it fills him with anxious, excited energy, and he kicks his legs back and forth with a smile.

Good thing I didn’t have a work shift today…Matt rolls over and his eyes fall in line with the coffee table. Or maybe it would’ve given me something to do? He immediately laughs. Yeah right…no way I could get any work done. My brain is useless today.

A car horn sounds twice in succession which rouses Matt from his thoughts. He rolls off the sofa and jumps to his feet. At the window, he catches a glimpse of Mello, who stands alongside two other men, near a pair of cars. Without hesitation, Matt eagerly dashes to the front door and tosses on a pair of sneakers. He throws the apartment door open and steps onto the rickety, metal stairs.

At the far end of the parking lot stands Mello, with an orange muscle car behind him. Opposite the blonde is an older gentleman, a black sedan behind him, and to his side another, younger man. Matt notes the older stranger is tall, lean and wears an expensive-looking suit. He appears rather confident with his wide stance and grand hand-gestures.

The second man is much younger, likely in his 30’s, and wears street clothes. His broad shoulders and bulky arm muscles seem poorly contained in his thin t-shirt. He stands guard, stoic and quiet, almost like a Queen’s Guard.

Matt remains at the top of the stairs, hesitant to move an inch further. A stern, contemplative expression replaces the boyish grin as he watches from on high. The conversation between Mello and the stranger seems casual, but somehow…isn’t. It’s almost adversarial, yet restrained; as though they are a pair of wild cats, cagey but patient, lying in wait for a moment to strike.

With a sigh, Matt makes his way down the stairs. This is weird…and maybe I could figure it out if I had more time to observe, but…

Mello notices him. Matt smiles shyly, to which Mello nods.

But…I feel like I’m intruding on something…

Mello smiles and offers his right hand to the older gentleman. “Thank you again. I’ll have Rod contact your people in regards to the October deal.”

“Ah, yes, of course.” The older man takes Mello’s hand in his and they shake. “We’ll be in touch.” Then the pair of strangers enter their black car and drive away.

“And they were…?” Matt asks. His eyes follow the black car down the road.

“They were the ones who helped to get this here.” Mello pats the car with a grin.

Matt's eyes fall upon the parked car: a 1968 burnt orange SS Camaro. The exterior, glossy with wax, shimmers in the afternoon sun. Just one glance at the car fills him with glee. He walks toward the passenger-side door and peeks through the window. The bucket seats appear brand new, but are most likely reupholstered, considering the age of the car. Even the fabric nap is adorned with perfect, satisfying vacuum lines.

A cursory assessment provides more than enough information to assess the value. Matt bottles his excitement and focuses on tallying figures. An SS Camaro from that year, in great condition, reupholstered, detailed, and waxed could fetch anywhere between $50,000-$75,000. It’s a hefty price tag, and it causes Matt to think further.

Earlier that year, Mello and he moved to the States, which took a sizable chunk out of their savings. And, because of that, they had to live frugally. They ate a lot of instant noodles. They bought clothes at thrift stores. They washed said clothes at the laundromat. What money remained after rent and bills was spent on simple pleasures: chocolate and smokes. It was difficult to stay on budget month after month, but somehow, they still had a roof over their heads.

But this, this gift; this very expensive gift didn’t fit their penny-pinching lifestyle. Matt couldn’t lie to himself; not even some sort of huge pay raise could explain this away. The fact that this car took a while to obtain not only spoke about its price, but explained it. To track down such a rare piece, wherever it came from, then transport it, have it refurbished…every characteristic added to the cost. And each new cost produced another red flag.

Then there were the two strange men in the black car from earlier. The older one was clearly in some position of power, and the younger one was the muscle. Then the careful conversation Mello and the stranger shared. All of it was questionable at best. Some deal was going down in October, too…

Still, Matt doesn’t speak a word of it. Not like he could interrogate Mello right now, in the parking lot, upon receiving a fantastic gift. Maybe the less he knew, the less to which he’d be liable.

Probably.

Mello, now at Matt’s side, softly punches the redhead in the arm. “Are you drowsy, or something?”

A few seconds pass before Matt answers. “Hm, what?”

Mello grins with a headshake. “Were you sleeping until now? You’re totally out of it.”

Matt rubs his arm, feigning injury. “Ah, yeah, bit drowsy…fell asleep on the couch ‘til I heard the horn.”

“Napping, really? That’s a surprise.”

“Guess I’m full of surprises, then.”

“Matt, there’s no way you napped!” The blonde chuckles. “You were practically bouncing off the walls when I left!”

Did Mello already see through him? He decides to double-down on the lie and flatly replies. “You’re the one who said I was drowsy, so obviously you already believed it.”

“You’re right. And it does make sense. Guessing you wore yourself out with all that excitement, hm?”

“Heh, seems so.”

“Well, I know what’ll wake you up.” Mello reaches into his jacket and retrieves a pair of keys. He holds both at eye-level. “I know how much you’ve been dying to receive your present. It took longer than expected to get here,” his grins deepens, “I hope that’s alright.”

Matt blinks. Then again, and again. Two keys dangle before him on a metal ring. They’re car keys. For his car. In a heartbeat, Matt abandons any thoughts of deep contemplation. Mello’s shady employment could be pondered later. But right now a beautiful, classic car is calling his name.

Matt’s lips fold inward, which warps the goofy smile that formed seconds prior. His hands shake excitedly.

“Awake now?” Mello asks, his expression somewhat devious.

Matt nods. The metallic jingle of the keys is like music to his ears.

“It’s all yours, Mattie. Go on.” Mello shakes the keys again.

In an instant, Matt snatches the keys with what can only be described as the dexterity of a racoon. Then, just as quickly, he pulls Mello into a smothering hug. “Thank you, Meeells! Thank you! Thank yooou!”

“Yes, yes, you’re welcome,” Mello exhales sharply. “God, are you trying to hug me to death? Let! Go!”

“Just a little longer….” Matt hums excitedly, momentarily tightening his vice grip, then releases.

Mello, almost breathless, pitches forward with sigh. “I think…I think you cracked some vertebrae in my back, or something…” With spine straightened, he rotates his neck from side to side. “Geez, Matt, I’m surprised you didn’t hug the car!”

“Hey! Great idea!” And, with that thought in mind, Matt gloms onto the hood. He nuzzles the car with a purr.

Mello’s eyes roll. “You are such an oddball.” A smile curls into his lips.

“The oddball doesn’t care that he’s an oddball. Because the oddball has a shiny, new toy!”

The blonde chuckles.

“My pretty girl!” Matt standss to face his partner. “Ooh! What should I name her?”

“The car’s a she?”

“Oh yeah, for sure! Now, lessee here…” Matt places an index finger against his upper lip. “Oh, y’know? There’s no reason t’make this difficult. I’ll just go with my fave color: Scarlet!”

Mello blinks once. Then again. And again. “Wh-Why?”

“Just told you why: favorite color.” Matt grins from ear-to-ear.

Mello’s eyes narrow. “But…but, Matt…” Deep blue eyes blink rapidly. “Matt, the car is orange.”

The huge grin plastered to Matt’s face begins to soften. He swings toward the car and a warm, burnt hue meets his gaze. Dammit, he’s right…Lips fold between his teeth with realization. An uncomfortable heat creeps through his cheeks and into his ear lobes. If anything is truly scarlet, it’s Matt’s complexion.

He continues to gaze at the very orange automobile with his back to Mello. With a deep breath, Matt considers all available options of escape, anything that would allow him to quietly slink away.

Mello begins to gently chew on his lips. A relaxed fist lifts to his face and presses against his mouth. He could sense the beginnings of a laugh, but felt the need to suppress it. “Y-You’re so excited…” Mello’s words escape with uneven inflection. He quickly backpedals, inhales carefully and manages to avoid an oncoming snort.

“You’re so excited about your car you for-forguh…” Mello bites down on his lower lip, still determined to prevent any chuckles from slipping out. His chest heaves involuntarily which begins a chain reaction. When his lungs contract, a snort sharply escapes and his abdomen spasms in response.

Mello clasps his free arm tightly around his midsection. The hand against his lips comes to rest palm-side down atop his forehead. ”Muh-Ma…Matt…” He mustlers shakily.

Matt turns around, his face still brightly colored.

It’s too much for Mello, who bursts with laughter. “You were so excited about your car that you forgot the color!”

Matt laughs, too. “Forget is such a strong word, Mells.” He exhales through his nose, and thinks of a way to cover up his mistake. “Y’know? You didn’t lemme finish! I….uh…” He thinks for a moment. “Wait, no, uh….y’know when a car drives really fast and, and you see the tail lights streak by? That’s reddish, right?! So there, th’name works!”

Mello quiets then takes a deep breath. “Wow, Matt. I haven’t laughed like that in a while.”

“Eheh, you’re welcome?”

“Geez, what’s wrong with you? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you this riled up.”

“Yeah, that’s probably true.” Matt sticks the tip of his tongue out.

“It’s either that, or your old age is catching up to you.”

Matt’s eyebrows lower. “Whaddaya mean?”

“Well, this is a birthday gift. You’re a whole year older.” Mello taps an index finger against his temple. “Seems you’re so old that your mind is slipping, Mattie. And the first part to go is memory.”

Matt snorts indignantly. “Fuck you, dude. I planned this, okay? Really! I’m gonna name ‘er Scarlet no matter what you think!”

Mello’s grin deepens. A crease forms between his brows as he meets Matt’s gaze. “Really!?” He shakes his head several times. “You didn’t strike me as the spiteful type.” One hand comes to rest against Mello’s face, thumb, index and middle finger rest on his chin. “Wait, I know what it is: it was that jab at your slipping memory, hm?”

“You know what? You’re a shithead.” Matt spins on his heels and faces the car.

“Oh, I definitely struck a nerve!” Mello cackles. “Fine! Name the car whatever your goofy heart desires. It isn’t like I can stop you, even if I wanted to.”

There’s a long pause before Matt turns around. “Oh, did you say something?” Matt’s tone is cordial but laced with snarkiness.

Mello snorts. “Yes, Grandpa, I did say something. Shall I repeat it for you?”

“You can try…” Matt’s voice trails off. He bends forward to mimic a hunched back. “Oh, but, y’know, I might be too feeble to understand.”

Mello shakes his head with a laugh. “I said, ‘Happy Birthday, dumbass! Name the car whatever you want!’”

#wammy week 2022 #death note #fanfiction #matt #mail jeevas #mello #mihael keehl #camaro #birthday #birthday gifts #humor #mild language #possible illegal activities #memory #classic cars

9 notes · View notes

yungbud · 4 years ago

Note

Hi my love! When you have time could you write an fluffy & smutty imagine where the reader gets insecure & worries or compares themselves to Ashley? (Halsey) & Dom finds out & shows the reader how much they mean to him & how much he loves them daddy kink in there with the smut please & a lot of praise & saying "I'll take care of you pretty girl" 🥺

Word count:4.1k

TW?: mostly angst and fluff, but mentions of daddy kink and adult themes obviously its smut.

A/n: anything for you my lil nugget 🥺 Smut is at the bottom you horny cunts. I hope it was everything you wanted and more <33

*rewrite

You knew better. Unfortunately, you were self destructive and couldn't help yourself. It was 3AM and Dom was fast asleep beside you, and had been for hours. You, however, had chosen to watch a video before bed. It was titled “Yungblud being cute for 6 minutes straight.”, but of course one video turned to five or six more, until eventually you came along another video. This one was called “Halsey and yungblud cute moments.” and the cover photo was of them in onesies, one of Dom's arms wrapped around her and the other holding the camera. You could feel the pit begin to grow in your stomach. Glancing over at Dom to check he was still asleep, you pressed play on the video, flipping over so you were facing him, so that if he did wake up he wouldn’t see what was on the screen.

It was ridiculous, honestly. How could you be jealous of her when you were the one laying right next to him. It broke your heart the way he looked at her, you couldn’t help but wonder... is that how he looks at you? Why would he? She’s so beautiful, look at jawline, look at those eyes and her voice. Oh god... her voice, she's a musician. You loved music, but you had never been musically inclined and at best you could go hard on the triangle. But her, she understood it all, down to the tour life. When he was overwhelmed with work or couldn’t find a melody, she could help, when he didn’t know how to deal with all the attention, she could help. She was like the perfect mentor/ girlfriend combo. She connected with him in ways you would never be able to. She got it.

Your finger hovered over part 2 of the video, a moment of hesitation before pressing it. You tapped twice more to skip past the person's intro, wasting no time in getting to the painful stuff.

One of the first clips was Halsey talking about the night they met. You knew it was unhealthy, but you couldn’t look away. She described it so beautifully, taking a moment to mention that of course she would because she's a writer and that's how she saw the world, her world was so beautiful. Dom deserved to live in her world.

She went on to say that they had met up in a bar to chat, to which you remembered why. It wasn’t a coincidence, Dom liked her music. He looked up to her. Just another way you could never be who he needed.

You couldn’t help it. He’d made the trade down of the century and everyone knew it. You paused the video momentarily, subduing the verbal attack on your ears and laying your phone down on your chest. Heavy breaths slid past your lips as you tried to calm yourself from a full blown breakdown.

You glanced once more over at Dom, ensuring he was asleep before letting a single tear slip down your face. You used the blanket to wipe it away, basking in the shitty feeling you had created for yourself. You decided that was enough of that, shutting off your phone and plugging it up for the night. After laying there silently for a moment you scooted a bit away from Dom.

You didn’t really feel like being held by him tonight.

----

The first thought in your head the next morning was of the events of last night, the same shitty feeling digging itself into the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck.” You sighed

“Sorry, I was borrowing one of Dom’s shirts. I didn’t mean to wake you.” You turned your head to acknowledge the presence in the room. It was Tom, bent over and digging through a pile of Dom’s clothes.

“All good.” You murmured, flipping onto your stomach and burying your face in the pillow. It smelled like Dom.

Soon after you heard the door shut behind Tom as he left, your head lifting from the pillow. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t really feel like being around Dom today. You couldn’t get past the feeling that he was ultimately worse off with you, that he had settled for less.

You hated the way you felt, your face drooping back into the pillow in an attempt to hide and ended up dozing off, the late night pity marathon catching up with you.

About an hour later you were awoken to Dom’s lips on your forehead. Your eyes met momentarily as you blinked the sleep out of them, reaching upwards in a stretch.

“ ‘ello sleepy head.” Dom says, planting another kiss, this time to your nose. You roll over, replanting your face in the pillow once again, “Are you going back to sleep?” He asks

“Tired.” You mumble back, voice muffled by the pillow.

“It’s 1pm.” no response “How late did you stay up last night?” He asks, laying his head on the pillow next to yours. You shrugged.

“Are you feeling alright, love?” You shifted your head so that you were looking at him, cheek still pressed softly against your pillow “Are you feeling a bit sick? Is it cramps? I can make you a cup of tea and get you some pain killers.” He continued, offering to help you in any way he could. He just wanted to know what was wrong with you, so he could help you. He hated the idea of you up in bed all alone feeling ill. He considered skipping the studio today, he was already cutting it close on time.

“No, I feel fine. Just need a nap. I must’ve stayed up later than I realized, s’all.” You knew you needed to tell him. Every silent moment was filled with you trying to convince yourself to just say something to him. Just talk about it. Just let him in.

“Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll be out of the house at the studio, but Tom and Adam are here if you need them. I’ll tell them to be quiet so you can get some rest.” You smiled in response, your eyes closing as he rubbed his thumb lovingly against your cheek “Hey, I love you.” he says, your eyes opening as you mumbled back an I love you of your own, your lips meeting in a chaste kiss before he stood back up and slipped out the door.

As much as you would’ve loved to, you didn’t sleep at all after he left. Tom and Adam had made good on their promise to stay quiet, but it didn’t make much of a difference when that little voice in your head wouldn’t shut up. You opted for distracting yourself with your phone, scrolling through instagram and hoping the memes would brighten your mood. For the most part they did, acting as a simple distraction.

Once you felt a bit better, you decided part of the reason you felt so bad today and last night was partially due to the fact that you hadn’t had anything to eat. You went to the kitchen to prepare yourself lunch, hearing Tom and Adam talking quietly in the other room.

While you were preparing your food you accidentally bumped into a stack of dirty dishes that had built up in the kitchen. You didn’t see what happened and when you turned to check nothing looked broken, but it was loud.

“Y/n?” Tom asks, tilting his head to get a better look into the kitchen.

“Hm?” You respond after a few moments of quiet deliberation. You weren’t exactly ready to be observed as awake, but you didn’t have any other choice, besides blaming it on an intruder who broke in with the intent of stealing the beloved orange tree outside, but when they arrived in the kitchen and were met with such a disgraceful mess decided they had no choice but to clean up after us. Of course, that might have stirred up a bit of a panic. They loved that orange tree, after all.

“Oh you’re finally up. Are you feeling alright? Dom said he thought you maybe came down with something.” Adam says

“I’m alright, thanks for asking. I’m just making myself lunch.”

“Come sit with us while you eat. We’re playing uno.” Tom invites. When you’re done making yourself food, you decide maybe it would be best to join them. It’s not good for your mental health to be stuffed up in your room pitying yourself all day.

You sat with your food in front of you, watching silently as they played.

“You wanna be dealt in the next round? It’s more fun with three players.” Tom offers, you give him a nod in response as your mouth is full of food. As you nod, Adam plays a red six, which ultimately leads to his demise as Tom then plays three red draw 2’s, stopping Adams hand as he goes to pick up and continuing to lay a red skip, then a yellow one, changes the color back to red and ends on his own red 3. You all laughed as Adam was absolutely massacred, almost choking on your lunch.

“There ain’t no coming back from that. Just tap out man.” You say through your laughter, reaching over to place a comforting hand on Adam. You all had small conversation as you finished your lunch, but soon you were done and the cards were passed out.

After a game or two, the round was paused as Adam stood up to get himself a glass of water, Tom and you shouting out your own drink orders from your place in the living room. By the time Adam was back at the table the running conversation had died down a bit. You began to think about why you’d been in bed all day, and the fact that Dom still attributed it to a small sickness. You felt the insecurity growing inside you once again, and you finally decided to talk about it.

“Did you guys like Ashley?” You ask, as inconspicuously as you could manage. You watch as they glance at each other, taking a sip of your drink to occupy your mouth.

“Yeah, she was cool,” Tom says, Adam nodding in confirmation “Why?”

“Just curious, I guess. Did you guys ever hang out?” You tried to play it off as casual conversation, but you got the feeling they were picking up on the fact that there was something more under the surface.

“Not really. Not without Dom, even then it was rare. Who’s turn was it?” Tom continued, feeding into your curiosity while trying to maintain the card game.

“Yours, I think.” You paused for a moment, thinking of your next question “Do you think she was better for him than I am?” Your eyes met with Tom’s as the words left your mouth. He stayed silent for a moment and you couldn’t tell what the emotion on his face was. It felt weird, confiding in your boyfriend’s friends. Usually you could tell what your friends were thinking, or have an idea about what they might say, but you didn’t know these two like that.

“Like how?” He asked, nodding towards you to silently mention it was your turn.

“I dunno, they have the same career.” they let out a small laugh at that.

“She knows how to play a guitar so she loves him more?” Adam says

“Well, no, but…” you tried to remember what you were anxious about “she gets it. She knows what it's like to be on the road all the time and not see your family, she knows about the mental toll being in the public eye has and how to deal with it, she knows how to help if he’s nervous about performing.”

“What makes you assume that?” Tom asks

“She’s been doing it so long.”

“Well, yeah, but knowing how to do that isn’t a part of the job description. It’s less about knowing how to be famous and more about knowing the person you’re with. If it was about that, most people in Dom’s life don't get it. But we get Dom, and that’s what he cares about. You get him, so you have nothing to worry about.” Tom says softly. He made a surprisingly good therapist.

You nodded, picking up 4 cards and sorting through them in your hand.

“But that doesn't mean you get to hide in your room cause you’re insecure. Just cause we’re talking about it doesn’t mean you don’t still need to tell him.” Tom continues, his chin resting in his hand as he looks at you.

“Yeah, of course.” You agree

~~~

You could hear Dom the second he walked in the house, engaging in a small conversation with the boys before making his way up the stairs. You heard his footsteps trail down the hallway and eventually meet your bedroom door, your eyes closing as you listened to it creak open.

“Love? Are you up?” Dom whispered, shutting the door softly behind him. You remained silent, trying to regulate your breathing like that of someone who’s asleep. He sighed, which made your heart crumple a bit. You wondered if you should respond, he might’ve had a hard day, but the nerves took over and you remained silent.

“You’re still sleeping?” He asked, partially to himself, before exiting the room once more. You could hear him talking with Tom from outside the door.

“Has Y/N been asleep all day?”

“Uh, no. She came out and ate lunch and played uno with us around 2. Is she asleep now?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

You planned on talking it out with him, and up until he walked into the house you were, but you were suddenly overcome with intense nerves and all you wanted to do was hide. You figured you would get a good night's rest and talk it out with him in the morning, that way if it went badly he would be out for most of the day at the studio and you wouldn’t have to sit in awkward silence as you tried to sleep.

He entered the room once again, stripping himself of his clothes as he preferred to sleep half naked, before joining you in bed. You felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you into him and wrapping you both in the blankets. Flipping over to face him, you nuzzled closer into his arms.

“Y/N?” He asks again, shifting to see if you’re awake. You hum in response this time, curious as to what he might have to say.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks, his hand returning to your cheek as it was this morning. You nod, letting out a small, genuine yawn as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

“How was your day?” You ask, shifting the conversation.

“It was good. We finally got that song done, I think i’m gonna play with it a bit more tomorrow though. It’s good but I think it could be better.”

“You always think it can be better.”

“It always can.” He states simply, making you smile. You loved that about him, his pure determination and dedication to his craft. It can always be better.

“How was your day? Tom said you guys played a bit of uno, who won?”

“It was alright. Yeah, him and Adam were playing when I came down so I decided to join them. I think overall it was probably Tom though, I think he was cheating.” Dom laughed a little at the claim, brushing his fingers through your mess of a hair.

“So...” You began, needing to get a word out so you wouldn’t bail on talking about this. God, you hated confrontation. Especially when it was about something you were feeling.

Dom hummed in response, the gentle reminder to continue breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I wasn’t sick today.”

“No?” He encouraged

“No. I was a bit tired though. But, that wasn’t the problem. I was watching youtube last night and I came across a video someone made. It was, like, a compilation of cute moments or whatever so I watched it cause it was cute. Then I watched another, and a few more, and eventually I came across a video that was called ‘Halsey and YUNGBLUD being soulmates for 3 minutes’... and I watched it.” He lets out a small, quiet snort, not entirely catching onto the vibe of the conversation.

“Jeez, how do they come up with this shit.” He remarked lovingly

“Heh, yeah. It’s just… I watched it and I saw the way you talked about and looked at her… It just got me thinking, yenno?”

“I don’t. What’d it get you thinkin’ about, beautiful?”

“I just felt like maybe you regretted being with me. Maybe you’re still bummed that you guys broke up and you ended up with me. Like maybe you still miss her.” You admit. It’s silent for a moment as he takes it all in, you almost expect him to confirm your suspicions.

“I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I made you feel like that.” He took a moment to think carefully about his next words “I know it must be hard to hear me talk about someone else like that, you can’t really escape my past relationships because of who I am. I honestly never thought of that. I love you, okay? Not anybody else. Obviously she and I had something, but it’s completely in the past and I don’t regret a thing because it led me to you, and I love you so much. You’re my fookin soulmate, I mean it. I’m not gonna let that slip out of your head ever again.” He said, punctuating it with a passionate kiss.

You expected the kiss to end rather quickly, but it didn’t. It kept going, building in intensity as you scooted closer to one another.

“I love you.” You whisper, breaking the kiss momentarily

“I love you so much, pretty girl” He responds, his hand coming up to hold your jaw.

“Hmm, show me.” You whisper, pulling him closer. His hand slides down your side and onto your thigh as your lips meet again, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling away lightly before indulging in the kiss once again.

Dom’s hands didn’t stay in one place for long, moving about your body as you made out, pausing his actions for a moment to take your shirt off, placing a kiss to each of your breasts before moving his lips up to your neck, leaving little marks for you to find in the morning. A chill ran down your back as he bit down on your ear, his hands massaging your breasts before reaching behind you and unbuckling your bra, throwing it off to the side and shifting his attention to your nipple. Taking it into his mouth, he presses his tongue flat against it as you lie down to give him a better angle.

His tongue flicking against your nipple while his hand plays with your other nipple. He swapped between which he used his mouth on and which he used his hand, making sure to give them both equal attention, your hands tangling themself into his hair while he did so. When he was satisfied he pulled away, causing you to let out a small whimper as you felt his lips leave you, making their way down your stomach in a series of wet, open mouthed kisses.

When he made it to your underwear he licked a single stripe, taking his his sweet, sweet time. First, kissing his way up one thigh, then back down and ghosting his lips over the area you needed him both, taking a moment to inhale your scent before kissing his way back up the other leg, and right back down.

“Please.” You whine

“Shh, I’m gonna take care of you, pretty girl.” He hushed, pulling your panties down your legs and glancing up at you as he did so, mimicking your pout before placing a chaste kiss on your clit. You leant your head back, closing your eyes as you waited patiently for him to begin.

He started off slowly, licking up your slit as he took his time with you. Dom loved to use his tongue anytime he could, you loved it too. When he ate you out, it wasn’t just tongue, he made sure to pay attention to your clit and use his fingers when needed but on nights like tonight, where he really wanted to drive you crazy, he made sure to use a lot of tongue.

“You taste so good, pretty girl.” He whispers, his breath fanning against you, his hands wrapped around your thighs as he lost himself in you, holding you like if he didn’t you would take his meal away. You tried your best to suppress the moans he was pulling out of you, knowing Adam and Tom were just rooms away. The way he was working you left you wishing you had come to him with this sooner. Your hips came up to meet his actions, your hand placed firmly on the back of his head, pushing him as far into you as he could go, eager to meet your release.

“That’s it, pretty girl, ride daddy’s face. Let daddy show you how much you mean to him.” He hums, taking a moment to catch his breath. You do as you’re told, the request putting you in anything but a bratty mood. You let out a small moan as he continues his actions, your hips setting the pace.

Once again, it started off slow, until you began to work yourself up. Your hand reached down, tangling itself in his hair once again, tugging as you tried to push yourself further down, your hips speeding up while you bite your tongue to keep down the moans that clawed their way up your throat.

You could feel the pressure building up in your stomach, squeaking out to Dom that you were gonna cum before releasing on his tongue. He let you remain there for a minute, riding out your high while he massaged and kissed your thighs. When you had fully come down you move yourself off his face, making your way down to his bulge where you began to unbutton his pants. His hand quickly came down to stop you.

“Tonight’s supposed to be about you.”

“I wanna make you feel good too.” You say, giving him a small pout. He stops to think for a moment before taking off his pants pulling you over him, giving himself a few painfully slow strokes before slipping himself inside of you. Your hips rocked carefully against him, still sensitive from your last orgasm. His hands continued to massage your hips as you found your pace, finding it harder and harder to remain silent.

“You’re so beautiful, pretty girl. Daddy loves to watch you bounce on his cock.” Dom growls, his hips coming up to meet yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, you give up on holding back your moans at this point as it’s already very obvious to anyone in the house what's happening upstairs.

The bed was creaking, your skin slapping together as he thrust into you, unable to cease the loud moans falling past your lips. Your legs began to shake as you approached your second release. Dom pulls you close, holding you, the gentle gesture in sharp contrast with the way he’s pounding away at you.

“Please can I cum.” You whimper

“One moment,” he interrupted himself with a groan “I wanna cum with ya, love.”

You held on as best you could, melting into his grasp as he worked towards finishing himself off. Soon after he growled a barely audible “Cum.” signifying his release. You moaned against each other, Dom pulling you closer as close wasn’t close enough. He maintained his actions, riding through your orgasm with one hand in your hair and the other lovingly stroking your thigh.

“Daddy’s got you babygirl.” He whispers into your ear, hushing you as you come down from your high.

When you finally felt well enough to sit up, your muscles hurt from the strain so you and Dom decided to have a bath.

He got up to run the bath water just the way you liked it and insisted on carrying you there, because ‘You’re hurtin’ so you can’t walk.’

You didn’t mind, though, laying your head on his shoulder as he carried you princess style into the bathroom. Luckily, the boys were in their rooms with the doors closed, presumably to suppress some of the noise.

The warm watered soothed your aching as you sat with Dom behind you, his wet hands stroking your arms with his head buried in your neck while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

After that night, you didn’t think you’d ever question your relationship with Dom again.

#yungblud #yungblud smut #yungblud fic #yungblud fanfic #yungblud fanfiction #yungblud x reader #dominic harrison #dominic harrison smut #dominic harrison fic #dominic harrison fanfic #dominic harrison fanfiction #dominic harrison x reader #dominic harrison fluff #yungblud fluff #yungblud angst #dominic harrison angst #yungblud aftercare #dominic harrison aftercare

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eddies-weirdo · 3 years ago

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Not Your Loki (pt4)

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Summary: After what feels like a million years of jumping through timelines, you finally think you found the one with your Loki. Unfortunately the Loki you find isn't yours and has been heartbroken and defeated by another. Do you still help him?

Warning: cursing

“Well if we go here and jump from this point here we’ll -” you flip through pages of the planets you’ve visited to a darker planet on the outskirts of the solar system “- it’ll bring us here, but if we skip this point -” you say pointing at another map of a planet ran by vampires “- we’ll just end up back on the Void.” You lean back in your chair and sigh “Finding the jumping off point is always the hardest, but once we get going we’ll be able to make our way through the timeline without to many issues.” You smile at Loki trying to instill some confidence in his decision to join you. He looks at you skeptically “You don’t know what you’re doing do you?” You narrow your eyes at him “Just because I don’t use the big fancy words that Tony does, doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m talking about.” “That’s precisely what that means though - “ he starts. Oh shit, footsteps. You grab his arm and put up a finger to signal to him that he needs to be quiet. You both hear the footsteps round the corner and a voice say “I could have swore I heard voices when I came by earlier but I don’t see any names on the schedule for this room”. The door opens and you see two guards looking around at the room. Loki starts to speak but you shake your head for once in your life please don’t talk. He looks at you, your eyes locked on the guards, and notices the flicker of green in your eyes. “There’s no one in here G-42, you must be hearing things.” “I swear I heard a -”, “Yeah yeah yeah, you just need a break from the last mission that’s all” and the door closes again. You let out the breath you’ve been holding in. “How did you do that?” You think about how to answer. “I didn’t make us invisible if that’s what you’re wondering, I just made a barrier that blocked us from their sight. That’s the best way I can explain it anyway.” You start to gather your notes and maps, “I think we better get to my safe house, we’ll have less visitors there.” “There’s other places you can go outside of the TVA?” Loki looks at you puzzled. “Oh no, it’s a pocket dimension I found. Is there anything you need to get before we leave?” He pauses, and thinks about Mobius for a moment “Can I say goodbye to Mobius? I know he doesn’t remember me I just ... need to say bye.” You look into his eyes and see that he’s being genuine “Are you sure you want to do this? If it helps you should know that he’s not technically ‘your Mobius’ he’s another variant”. He looks down at the table, thinking for a moment. “I promise I’m not trying to deter you, I’m just trying to be realistic with you. If you truly want to do this I’m sure he’s in his office down the hall.” He nods “I’ll be quick”.

The two of you try to act as casual as possible as you walk down the hall, avoiding eye contact with anyone you pass. Being here over a thousand times you know exactly where Mobius is at this time of day. You stop a few feet from the open doorway and whisper “He doesn’t know you but I can’t say whether or not he’ll recognize me, so I’ll just wait here and keep watch”. Loki nods, stands up straight, and tries to brush is hands through his hair a bit. You shake your head at him, smiling. “Oh shut up” he whispers at you and hurries off. You see him materialize a stack of folders, and go into the office.

*Knock, knock* Mobius looks up from his afternoon snack to see a tall, dark headed man in the doorway. “Oh hey there, what can I do for ya?” he asks happily. Loki quickly says “Sorry to bother you, I just got lost. I thought this was the way to the cafeteria” “Ha nope sorry, it’s down the hall, take a right, another right, then a left and you can’t miss the sign.” Mobius says smiling still. “Um thank you ... bye then” Loki stammers and walks back out.

As Loki walks into the office, you start looking around for any other offices for a spare tempad. I’ll need one for Loki, and mine is almost dead anyway. You look across the hall into an open office. You poke your head in the office and see a box of tempads. JACKPOT. You take four for good measure but then you see the nameplate on the desk. Renslayer. Well fuck me I guess. You turn around and are eye to eye with the judge. She glares at you. You smile back “Hello Ramona”. “Who are you and why are you in my office?” she says still glaring. “Just picking up some extra tempads for my next mission” you says as you start backing out of the doorway. “Wait -” you hear her say and you close the door. You snap your fingers and lock the door. Ohshitohshitohsitohshit you think as you walk quickly down the hall back just as Loki is coming out of Mobius’s office. “I fucked up we need to go” you say grinning in panic. “I was gone for three minutes -” Loki says as you’re quickly putting in the coordinates of your safe house. The familiar orange portal opens and you pull him through before he can finish.

You both land in a open field surrounded by tall trees and other various fauna. You look around huh I’m pretty close this time, I guess I am getting better at this. Loki sits up and says “Why did we fall and not just walk out like all the other portals I’ve been though?” You laugh “Um ... would you believe me if I said I didn’t think we’d fall out?” He starts to say something else but you interrupt by pointing over his shoulder at your cabin across the field. “Welcome to my home!”

He turns to see a small cabin made out of dark wood, with bright purple shutters (“I like to be different” you explain), a large herb garden that has grown out of hand (”I’ve been busy, geez.”), and a porch with a porch swing overlooking the rest of the field. You hold out your hand to help him up and he takes it. As his hand grasps yours you feel a spark of the seidr well that’s new but don’t say anything. As the two of you make your way to the cabin, Loki asks "Do you even having running water here?" You turn to look at him and wave your hands at him creating green sparks between your fingers. "Anything is possible with magic my darling".

You unlock your door and snap your fingers to light the fireplace and turn on a lamp. Loki looks around at the cozy room. Your patchwork couch of all colors and patterns sits before the small fireplace catches his eye, the far side of the room has a large painting of the field outside that you painted during the time you first found this place, the coffee table has an open book of poetry with a pressed flower from your garden in it, and he smiles at the large green bookshelf you'd made for your ever growing book collection. "As far as I'm concerned, my home is your home. The guest room is down the hall to the right and bathroom is the room across from it. I don't know if you have back problems like my Loki, but there's large bath in there that you're welcome to use." You wave your hand and a small jar of purple bath salts appear. "Here, put this in the bath water as the tub is filling up. It'll help the pain." He looks at you, unsure how to respond to the kindness "Um, thank you". "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me" you say as you walk away. Loki makes his way to the bathroom and notices your gallery wall of pictures and weapons you've collected. In the first picture he sees you with Tony and Bruce in the lab on your first day working with them, the next picture shows you and Bucky arm wrestling with the team gathered around cheering you on, the next picture shows you and Nat dressed up for one of Tony's many parties, "So y/n does know how to dress" he says to himself. He continues looking over the pictures. He sees one with you and Thor, both of you are smiling but the grief on your faces is clear that this was taken some time after Loki's death. "He did mourn you, you know. He loves you in his own way." he hears you say from the kitchen. "Can you stop doing that? It's like you know what I'm thinking" he says. He hears you laugh "Can't, I'm your wife."

The next set of pictures showed you holding Morgan at her second birthday as she hugs you tight, you with Clint as he shows you how to use a bow in the training area, and one big group picture of the whole team. You stand in the front with Clint, Nat, and Tony while the rest of the team stands behind the four of you, all smiles. The last picture he sees is one that someone had taken of Thor and the rest of the Asgardians in new Asgard, but in the far back he can see you on the hill next to marker.

That's all for part 4! This was going to be a bit longer but it's almost 1 here so I need to get to bed so I can be a functional adult tomorrow.

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n

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bakugohoex · 4 years ago

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“happy new year baby”

pairing: kotaro bokuto x female reader

cw: aged up, language, fluff, kissing, alcohol, just hella fun

word count: 2900+

a/n: sorry guys this is coming out late on the first day of 2021 but hope you guys enjoy it because it is in my opinion adorable

summary: in which you and bokuto go to the msby new years eve party to celebrate, as the clock starts ticking down both you and bokuto seem to be no where near each other and in a rush to find each other, you both go into the new year with one thing unchecked

↞ back to haikyu!! masterlist

The stars filled the blues and blacks that cascaded across the sky, tiny lamps were situated on top of the long poles that surrounded the open top garden. Even with the December chill, the MSBY team had decided to set up their annual New Year’s party on top of a building which had a rooftop view of the fireworks and ball drop. Fairy lights clinged against the wooden poles, a bar in a corner and music burst through the speakers as everybody began to mingle.

You and Bokuto were both running late, having had to work yourself on New Year’s Eve, the rush of getting ready in time for the 8pm time. Had been a lot longer than you expected and now at 8:15, Bokuto leaning against the door as you put a coat of lip gloss across your lips. He hadn’t expected you to take this long, but watching you become even more perfect was always a sight for sore eyes for the boy. He grabbed the heels, moving to your legs with ease. “Baby, you don’t have too.”

“I want too.” He had kneeled and your hand instinctively moved through his hair, the normal spiky hair had instead been flatter, draping down to his ears. It was an unknown look, but you liked it either way, he fastened the heel to your feet, caressing your leg which wasn’t covered in the thin gold fabric you wore.

The dress had been a Christmas present from your boyfriend, with sequined straps and a cut up to your mid-thigh on your right side. It was perfect and watching you walk around in your get up made his eyes fill with love. He got up, helping you up himself you were finally able to leave and seeing the cascading messages from Kuroo asking where the hell you two were. You knew you would get told off, it wasn’t even like you two were fucking, Bokuto had had to watch you for the past two hours get ready.

Even then the instant you both were outside, you regretted not bringing some sort of jacket but didn’t want to be even more late. You knew by the end of the night you’d end up stealing the black suit jacket Bokuto had worn. The white shirt underneath with the first couple of buttons un done was a sight for sore eyes, and his trousers that clinged onto his thighs and ass looked like heaven to touch.

The drive was quick, probably due to both wanting to see how the rooftop looked like. Arriving up to the door, you both got told how to get up and in a matter of minutes, you felt the much colder wind hit your skin again. You saw past teammates from the MSBY’s time in high school and even new teammates from playing on the national team. In an instant you saw Kuroo walking up to you both with an eyebrow raised.

“You two couldn’t have waited to fuck after New Year’s.” He spoke grabbing the two champaign glasses that a waitress had been holding. Passing them to both you and Bokuto.

“I fucking wish we had been fucking, this one was taking hours.” Bokuto over exaggerated, you hit his shoulder glaring at him.

You drank the Champaign in a single sip, both looking at you with wide eyes, “glad we got a free bar now.” Kuroo mutters before dragging you both around, you were met with Bokuto’s teammates who all hugged and began conversing with you both.

The sound of Akaashi had made Bokuto leave you with the group of volleyball players, you watched him leave taking a sip of the pina colada you had made Atsumu get you. “Y/n, you promised we could take shots.” Atsumu pouted.

“I want shots.” Hinata shouted out before he went on his merry way to the bar, getting what looked like 20 odd shots.

“Sakusa, you going to join us, I’m sure they sanitised it all.” You spoke to the boy, his mask around his face matching the colour of his undershirt.

“I watched them sanitise it.” You nodded, of course the boy did. He probably glared at them whilst they cleaned every single shot glass and glass to his perfection.

Hinata came back with the tray, Atsumu in an instance challenged Osamu who had been talking to Suna to see who could down the most shots. It was a sight watching the two twins argue between who had taken the most, watching with ease how they gulped the liquid down.

Hinata grabbed his own taking it before the twins could finish what he had bought and you and Sakusa did a shot together. You had heard your name being called from the other side and left to be met with Kageyama who had been talking to Iwaizumi.

“Iwa, Kageyama.” You smiled out, grabbing another drink on your way to the boys.

“Y/n.” He smiled out as Kageyama looked at your already tipsy self.

“Did the stupid orange boy make you do shots?” Kageyama muttered, his own drink in his hands.

You laugh as you went to hug Iwaizumi, “More like the twins were stealing all the shots, I had to have some.”

You began conversing with the two boys before getting hungry, you could see appetisers coming round and began to take a few in your palms. You sat on a stool near the edge watching over the bright lights that filled the horizon, it was sight, you had noticed Kenma with his game in his hand.

“Kenma, why am I not surprised?” You spoke with the appetiser in your mouth.

He looked at you seeing the endless amount of prawn volovants in your palms. “You got enough there.” He tried to surpress a laugh at how hungry you must have been.

“Hey, don’t be mean, you’re not getting any now.” In an instance you put the five in your mouth, stuffing your face. Kuroo had noticed you and Kenma, coming closer he noticed your puffed cheeks and Kenma laughing.

He turned to see you properly, the pasty around your lips, “Y/n what the fuck?”

“Where’s Bokuto?” You ignored him missing your boyfriend who you hadn’t seen in the past hour, he was probably drinking with Akaashi somewhere.

Kuroo helps you up, your heels making your feet sore you weren’t drunk at least, just buzzed and wanted to see your baby as soon as you could. “I’ll take you to him.” Kuroo kept you near him, guiding you away from the platters, you had tried five times to re direct the rooster head. But he had directed you every time to the other end where a couple of chairs and tables were.

You noticed more people who you wanted to say hi to, but Kuroo kept you in place thinking all you could see was food. “Baby.” You said as soon as you saw your boyfriend, he was sitting with Akaashi, Ushijima and Hoshiumi.

He smiled seeing you with what looked like more appetisers, “when did you get those?” Kuroo said in disbelief at how you had conjured up more food.

“You’ll never know.” You chuckle before sitting in Bokuto’s lap, he didn’t care playing with your hair as you sat and ate. Before starting a conversation with Ushijima and Hoshiumi who seemed to be talking about some promoter who had been bugging them.

“Why don’t you tell them to fuck off in a nice email?” You suggested to the two boys.

“What does a nice email mean?” Ushijima’s expressionless face would normally have been intimidating but after having known him for a while, he was just stoic because he really was clueless.

“Like say…” Your hand went to your chin to think, “I appreciate your consideration to have me as a promoter but at the time being, I’m occupied in other ventures, some bullshit like that.”

You scoffed another appetiser down your throat, “lemme have one.” You heard in your ear, Ushijima and Hoshiumi clearly had taken your words as they looked like they were thinking up another one, so it didn’t seem weird.

You faced your boyfriend, his eyes glued to how your leg and thigh were on display for him and your straps to your dress had fallen to your shoulder. Your cleavage on show for him, he nuzzled his face in your neck before you fed him the appetiser. “That’s all you get; I want them all.” It was addicting and you had found a new love in food,

“It’s okay I’ll just taste it from you.” You tilted your head in confusion, before feeling his lips on your mouth.

You smiled kissing back, his hands on your thighs rubbing circles, you loved the taste of him, the sweet alcohol he had been drinking lingered and your cherry lip gloss circled his own mouth. “It’s not even the countdown yet.” You heard Akaashi speak who had been helping the two clueless boys.

“Akaashi don’t be mean.” You pout before seeing more food come out Bokuto notices your eyeline.

“Bring some for me.” You nod like a woman on a mission, you got up from the boy, his hand giving a squeeze to your ass through the fabric. He grinned licking his lips as you sauntered off. You needed more food, drinks, and love. You got more food grabbing it in a plate that were stacked in the sides before going to get some more drinks. Looking at the list of alcohols you couldn’t choose, skimming back and forth.

“Y/n, is that you?” You turned around meeting Kiyoko, she smiles as you both go in for a hug.

“When did you guys arrive?” You ask as you both sit down eating the food that was meant for both you and Bokuto, you hadn’t realised how quickly the time had come, the nearing of midnight approaching until Tanaka came up to Kiyoko.

“It’s nearly midnight.” A rush of energy hit through you, you jolted up scouring to find Bokuto who was nowhere to be seen.

You kept at it, unable to see due to the heights of all of them, worry came to your face seeing you only had a minute left. You saw Akaashi running towards him, “where’s Bokuto?”

He looked confused before pointing to the other end of the rooftop, damn this place for being so big. What you hadn’t realised was Bokuto had been looking for you himself, meeting Kiyoko and Tanaka just as you had left. Both of you searching for each other, he had been preparing all night, talking to Kuroo and Akaashi but in this moment. He was uncertain his plan was going to work.

That’s until he saw you, your plump lips having pastry around the edges, the sleeve that had seemed to have fallen even more, an empty glass in your fingers. You were looking around until you spotted him as well, a happy face as the countdown began.

“Ten.”

You both began to walk towards each other, it was like a movie where nobody else existed and it was just you too. His grin had gotten wider, his hand in his pocket and your dropping the glass onto someone. You didn’t even know who, you didn’t care your eyes focused on your new year’s kiss.

“Nine.”

People were chanting all around you, the walk would take less than ten seconds but the two of you dragged it out, wanting to pounce on each other just in time for the half way mark. He continued to walk towards you, you just as pretty as the day he had met you. You were always the first one to his games and the last one to leave with him and he cherished every moment you had spent for him and his career.

“Eight.”

His lips twitched upwards, a grin as he cocked his head back. You could see his neck on full show, before he regained his composure, he had seen your eyeline shower him before taking a mere glance at the plate of food that had gone past him. You would always be his same hungry girl who would rather have spent tonight at home eating together than at a party like this.

“Seven.”

You continued to step forward, the seconds longing out, time becoming even longer. You remembered a conversation that you had had with the boy the first time you met. He hadn’t been his normal self, instead a mess whilst talking to you and you had had to stop his nerves by holding his hands. It made you both calm and a conversation arising about what you’d both do if you had an unlimited amount of time. He had remarked about how he would spend it playing volleyball, which you weren’t surprised about.

“Six.”

He had asked you the question one year after dating, the only reason being that he had changed his answer. His words stayed with you ever since, he would spend his unlimited amount of time with you. You the woman who he saw a future with, the woman who he would marry, who he would have a family with, the woman who he would grow old with.

“Five.”

You both approached each other, his hand raised which you entangled your hand into. Both standing in the middle of the rooftop, everybody eyes on the countdown. Your bodies were ever so close as he rubbed circles on the back of your hand.

“Four.” He whispers, tilting his head.

You tilted your head the opposite direction saying the word, “Three.”

“Two.” Your lips grazed across each other, the smell of food and alcohol coming from both of you. But most of all the cherry lip gloss that you had kept applying every time you ate.

“One.” You both spoke in unison.

His lips crashed into your, teeth to teeth, lips to lips. Your hands moved to his hair, pulling and tugging to bring him closer, you both kissed each other with so much force. Going into the new year with each other and practically in each other. You heard the Happy New Years around you, the streamers and lights flashing as fireworks spilt into the sky. Before you both let go of each other, out of breath at how passionate the kiss had been.

“Happy New Year baby.” His words were soft against your mouth.

“Happy New Year Ko.” You smiled going in for another much shorter peck. His lips were soft, and he tugged at your waist making you move closer to him, he seemed to be shaking but you hadn’t notices. Akaashi had noticed coming up to the two of you, your eyes grazing across the sky to see the colours of red and yellow across the sky. “Y/n.”

Akaashi nodded at Bokuto who easily let you go, you turned to see Akaashi. Missing Bokuto’s arm but you didn’t say anything, he probably went to say Happy New Year to the drunk Kuroo and Atsumu who had put their jackets on like capes.

“Happy New Year Akaashi.” You smiled at the boy going in for a hug, before you heard a squeal from behind you.

“Turn around.” Akaashi instructed letting you go.

You obeyed turning around, even the music had stopped which was a shock. Both Kuroo and Atsumu gleefully cheering him on. Him, the man who was on his knee with an engagement ring. Him, the man who had been planning this for months. Him, the man who hadn’t known when the perfect time to do this was. Tears welled up as he began to speak aloud for everybody to hear.

“I…I love you Y/n, I always will, and I want to spend the rest of our lives together, until we’re 130.” You give a chuckle at the inside joke between you, him and Akaashi. “It took me a while for me to realise I wanted to do Volleyball for the rest of my life, I never expected to have known by our second date that I’d marry you. Ever since then I knew you were the one, the one who id see walking down the aisle, the one who would create a family with me and the one who would stay by my side until the end. Will you Y/n Y/l/n, do me the greatest of honours in becoming my wife?”

You sucked in a breath before nodding, a teary “yes.” Erupted from your mouth and in an instances his arms had grabbed you into a hug. Your legs up in the air as he carried you by your waist. You cried into his shoulder, the cheers and congratulations coming from everybody.

He let go keeping you close to him, putting the diamond onto your left ring finger. He smiled looking at you, “you said yes right? You didn’t just say it to save me the embarrassment.”

The mascara had dripped down your face, smiling at the boy, “I said yes, Ko.” Tears fell from his own eyes, before looking at you. The beauty you had made him want to look at you for hours on end. But more specifically how nobody could ever compare to you, you were perfect. You were his perfect girl.

A grin fell on his face before he kissed you again, not as his girlfriend, not as his new years kiss but as his future wife. As the woman who he now knew for certain would be with him till the very end.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @ukaisgratefulwhore

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago

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Duplicitous

Warnings: noncon/dubcon elements (rough sex, oral, cuckolding), deception.

This is dark!Loki and ft. some Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: Loki is new to the team but receives a cool welcome from those at the Avengers compound. Assigned to complete his orientation, you try to start anew with the former villain of New York.

Note: Still working on Omerta and From Eden. Tbh, the last week has been a tough one mentally but I’m working on that. I’ve also been all over the place helping my mother get settled after moving to town. Whatever, life is life. Thanks to all your wonderful people.

Leave some feedback, like and reblog if you can <3

It was a long morning. Much of it had been spent with Tony and as any other meeting with the man, it swung between amiability and antagonism. It was easy to guess why he was agitated as he was determined to thrust the crux of his displeasure upon you. Tony was never one to just roll over and he held a grudge well, but he wasn’t heartless and Thor was one of his best.

It was only unfortunate that the Asgardian had deemed himself a package deal. If his home was to be Earth, it wouldn’t be his brother’s too. Loki was different now, he sought redemption, to right his wrongs. It was a hard sell but the god was relentless and as usual, he prevailed.

“I want you to make this hell,” Tony’s words echoed in your head as you flipped through the workplace standards binder. “You are going to go through this with a fine tooth comb until that jackass can’t take anymore.”

These things were never easy. Going over protocol, safety regulations, workplace behaviour and etiquette. Usually you did your best to condense it all to make it more palatable; as much for you as the new hires. Now Tony wanted you to torture this man via dry ordinances as he wasn’t allowed to do so physically. The boss wouldn’t sign off until he was sure Loki suffered, though you were just as certain Tony had no plans to sign off on anything.

You checked the clock, it was almost noon already. You’d set up the conference room for your first session. The binders and files stacked neatly on one end as you sat in the middle.

You rose and looked through the transparent wall. Pepper’s heels raced by as she hurried to Tony’s office with her phone at her ear. The usual chaos of the tower.

You stepped out into the hall and made your way to the kitchen and popped a capsule in the machine before you found a mug. You added water to the machine and listened to the whir as it spat orange pekoe from its nozzle. You hated the little pods of leaves but you didn’t have time to wait on the kettle. You added a touch of milk and checked your watch before you stole one of the scones left in the box Pepper had strolled in with that morning.

You cradled the crummy scone in a paper towel and as you neared the conference room, you found a broad pair of shoulders awaiting you. You had still not grown used to Thor’s lack of hair. Loki’s dark head appeared just on the other side of him and your dread sank into your stomach.

“Hey,” You approached. “Just in time.”

“My lady!” Thor boomed as he turned to greet you. “How are you?”

“Well, and you?” You couldn’t help but smile. “How is the city treating you so far?”

“We have seen many things,” He announced. “Many delicious foods.”

Loki was silent, his eyes dull as he resisted rolling them at his brother.

“And are you doing more exploring today?” You wondered.

“Eh, I gotta see Tony but I figured I’d see Loki in for his first day,” He lowered his voice. “I told him to behave.”

“I can hear you,” Loki grumbled.

“Yes, well you already know I told you to behave,” Thor said. “So… behave.”

“Yes, mother,” Loki replied snidely.

Thor huffed and shook his head.

“I fear I’ve set him into a mood already,” Thor said. “I apologize.”

Loki blinked in exasperation but said nothing.

“Well, I guess we should begin and you should see Tony sooner than later,” You offered. “He called for the jet so he might not be here much longer.”

“Thank you,” Thor clapped your shoulder. “I promise, he has changed.”

You nodded and gave a weak smile. Thor left you and you turned to Loki. He stared at you a moment then his eyes drifted to the transparent door.

“Allow me,” He pushed the door inward and stepped inside to let you past.

You looked down at your full hands and thanked him as you entered. You set your mug and scone down but didn’t touch them. You had hoped to enjoy them before his arrival but for once, Thor was timely. Or perhaps that was Loki’s doing. He seemed the more stringent of the two.

“Loki,” You waved to the chair across from you. “Nice to meet you.”

“Again,” He neared slowly and grabbed the back of the chair. “Did you forget?”

“A brief meeting, yes,” You said. “But I’ve been told you weren’t yourself.”

He sat carefully and leaned an elbow on the arm of the chair.

“I remember it though,” He assured you.

“I tend to remember other events that day a little more clearly,” You countered.

“Mmm,” His brow twitched. “Yes, you Midgardians do cling to the more extreme details of my last visit.”

You wanted to scoff. Your last meeting had very nearly killed you. As creatures flew upon strange machines outside the windows of Stark Tower and buildings were decimated, you had caught a piece of shrapnel as one of the invaders crashed through the windows. You still wore the scar across your side; still remembered the god behind Tony’s bar, lecturing you upon your inferiority.

“This is a new start,” You slid a binder over to him. “Though not an exciting one.”

His fingers tapped on the blue cover as you opened your own and took a sip of your tea.

“What is this?” He opened his slowly.

“The rules,” You answered. “Combat regulations, mission protocol, office standards… the fun stuff.”

“And did my brother have to sit through this tripe?” He asked.

“Your brother didn’t try to invade New York,” You said sharply. “And Tony likes him.”

“Ah, Stark,” He smirked. “Of course.”

“Did you want a tea? Anything to drink?” You asked.

His eyes flicked up and he considered you. “Very kind, but I’d rather we just begin.”

“Right,” You looked down and took a breath. “Probably best.”

🐍

The clock at the end of the room read past six. You yawned and rubbed your eyes. All the little quizzes and evaluations Tony had tacked on were taking a lot longer than you expected. Loki looked just as uninterested though he read along all the same and had yet to falter.

You sniffed and leaned back in your chair.

“Ready to call it a day?” You asked.

“Up to you,” He said coolly. “To be honest, it has been slightly preferable to my brother’s grating presence. Slightly.”

“He’s not that bad,” You chuckled.

“He’s not your brother,” Loki countered. “Have you ever had the pleasure of eating with him? It’s disgusting.”

You held back another laugh and shook your head. Your eyes caught a figure on the other side of the clear wall. Steve squinted through and pointed at Loki with a tilt of his head. You blinked and shrugged. Loki noticed and glanced over his shoulder.

“Ah,” He slowly turned back. “The golden avenger has returned.”

“Well…” You tapped your fingers on the table. “I am, uh, late.”

“Late?” He raised his brows.

Steve went to the door and opened it carefully.

“Sorry to interrupt,” He poked his head in. But I’ve been, uh…” He looked at Loki warily. “Texting you.”

“We were just finishing up,” You assured him.

“Hello, Captain,” Loki pivoted his chair.

“Steve,” The other man corrected. “Thanks.”

“Ah,” Loki’s mouth twitched and he looked between the two of you. He stood up and turned back to you. “I didn’t realise. I shall see myself out.”

“We’ll pick this up tomorrow. Same time,” You said.

“I look forward to it,” He said dryly.

Loki took the black jacket he’d slung over the back of his chair halfway through your session and nodded at Steve as he slipped past him. He strode along the wall and offered a two finger wave before he disappeared. Steve watched him with hands on his hips.

“What--”

“You haven’t talked to Tony?”

“I didn’t think he was serious,” Steve turned to you. “He didn’t--”

“Oh, you guys need to calm down,” You rolled your eyes. “He was perfectly… tame.”

You pulled out your phone and saw several notifications from Steve, along with a few emails. One was marked with a red exclamation which deemed it urgent and you opened it up. You glossed through it quickly.

“Steve,” You looked up. “You didn’t?--”

“It was Bucky too,” He said evasively. “We were just doing our job.”

“You collapsed a bridge,” You frowned. “Why is it always you?”

“No casualties,” He pleaded.

“Only me,” You scowled. “I’ll be buried in the paperwork.”

He lowered his chin guiltily. He neared shyly as you packed up your bag.

“How can I ever make it up to you?” He touched your arm.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you collected your mug and half-eaten scone.

“Cheesecake?” He smiled.

“You can’t buy me with dessert,” You brushed past him and he followed you out into the hall.

“Really?” He said. “I know you like a little whip cream on top.” You entered the kitchen and rinsed out the cup and placed it in the rack. “But… we could try it on something else.”

You faced him and fought not to smirk. You shook your head.

“So the cheesecake is… foreplay?”

“Part of it,” He got closer and his hand settled on your hip.

“Hmm,” You hummed as his lips hovered over yours. “Strawberry cheesecake?”

“My favourite,” He purred and kissed you.

🐍

The next day, you found Loki waiting in the conference room. You had spent your morning trying to clean up after the super soldiers. You pushed through the clear door and rounded the table as you greeted Loki.

“You’re early,” You said as you took your seat. The binders were as they had been the day before.

“All the better to get this over with,” He said as you sat and rolled your chair closer to the table.

“You know, I am starting to think it would be a lot easier if you and Tony just had it out,” You opened the binder. “Well, easier for me.”

Loki snickered and flipped through his own binder.

“You and the golden boy,” He ventured as you found the right page. “Adorable.”

You glanced up at him and furrowed your brow. You cleared your throat and looked back to the pages.

“So, we were going over required training.” You said.

“Is that allowed in your little Midgardian handbook?” He prodded.

“We will cover that,” You assured him. “Not that I think you need to worry about it.”

“Hmm, no,” He mused. “I wouldn’t.”

You sat back and sighed.

“It might be easier if you at least tried to make friends here,” You said.

“Friends?” He lifted a brow. “Who should I start with? Stark? Oh, I’m sure he’d be open to a little reconciliation. Or maybe Rogers? Hmm? He really seems the forgiving type. Or that little redhead thing? She seems peaceable.”

“You could begin with me,” You offered. “I’m not here to provoke you.”

He blinked and shifted in his chair.

“Have I been unkind?” He wondered.

“Not exactly,” You answered. “But not everything needs to be a… snipe.”

He considered you and his hand spread over the binder.

“It wasn’t meant to be,” He said evenly. “I bear you no hostility, though perhaps I do owe you an apology.”

“Apology?” You echoed.

“Regardless of the circumstance, I said what I said that day, it was cruel and there is no excuse,” He said. “You were wounded and I would have watched you die. It might have been a different version of me, but it was me. I apologise.”

“You don’t have to--” You touched your side without thinking. “Thank you.”

“And I will do my best to withhold my contempt. You do not deserve it.”

You were a bit shocked by his candour. You pressed your lips together and straightened the binder in front of you.

“That’s a good start,” You said. “So, now that’s cleared up…”

“What page was it?” He nodded and looked to his binder. He leaned it against the edge of the table as his eyes roved over the tight font.

🐍

The rest of the week went much the same. However, Tony’s plan to chip away at Loki seemed not to be working as your patience wore away and the Asgardian remained ever stoic. He was almost amused as he humoured your Midgardian codes.

Your weekend was well earned but didn’t allow for much rest. Steve was due to leave again that week so you had to squeeze what time you could out of him. It could be a couple days, or a week, or two. He could never really say and you never expected him to. You knew how it was when you got into the relationship.

All the while, you tried to catch up on the work delayed by Tony’s pointless ploy to drive Loki out. You hated that he had chosen you for this though you doubted he’d trust any other to do so.

On Monday, Loki was late. You were surprised. He had always been annoyingly early. You texted Steve and he replied with a heart emoji. The door whisked open and had your phone face down on the table. Loki sat heavily across from you, a scrape across his forehead and a split in his lip. His cheek was slightly swollen beneath his eye but he seemed barely fazed by his injuries.

“Oh my god,” You said. “What happened to you?”

“Training,” He smiled and hissed as the gesture pulled at the cut. “My brother… got a bit carried away.”

“And how does he look?”

“To the detriment of my pride, better than I do,” He said. “I did try to restrain myself, though my tongue does not obey me as well as my body.”

“Let me get you some ice,” You stood.

“Really, I’m fine.” He insisted.

“You’re bleeding.” You said as blood began to trickle from the split in his lip.

“I thought I’d stemmed it,” He reached up. “Forgive my lateness.”

“That’s the last thing I’m worried about,” You scoffed. “One second.”

You went to the kitchen and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and the first aid kit from beneath the counter. You returned to Loki and set your wares down. You flipped open the metal box and grabbed an alcohol wipe.

“Did you clean the cuts at least?” You asked.

“I can handle it,” He assured you.

“Sorry, sorry,” You flicked the packet. “I sound just like my mother right now.”

“I do appreciate it though.”

He took the little paper packet and tore it open. He blindly wiped the cut along his hairline and that on his lip. You offered him some gauze and he thanked you before he pressed it to his lip. When the blood slowed, he grabbed the ice pack and held it to his cheek.

He stood and you quickly backed away as he tossed his mess in the bin. You packed up the kit as he sat again.

“Thank you,” He said again and you pushed aside the metal box.

“You know, it’s not too uncommon to have a bloody lip here,” You rounded the table and sat across from him. “You good though?”

“Very,” He said with a slight smirk. “I have been anticipating this section most fervently.” He opened the file before him. “Office etiquette. I suppose I am sorely lacking in that.”

You almost laughed at his quip. He wasn’t so cold as that first day and you no longer saw the villainous invader before you. You saw someone wildly out of place. For a moment, you felt bad for him. The glimmer in his eyes quickly smothered it and you wondered for a moment. This was Loki; he could more than handle himself.

🐍

Steve showed up only a couple hours later and waved at you through the glass. He had his bag. He was leaving. You tried not to stutter as you continued reading through the clauses before you and Loki seemed barely bothered by your momentary lapse. You swept a paper out of another folder.

“So, another pop quiz,” You said sourly. “While you fill that out, I’ll just excuse myself for a moment.”

“Very well,” He accepted and played with the pen.

“Ten minutes.” You promised as you stood and slid the paper to him.

He nodded and looked dully at the sheet. You hurried around the table and out into the hall. Steve retreated and you followed so you could not be seen through the transparent wall.

“Going?” You asked glumly.

“I shouldn’t be long. It’s an easy in and out.” He rubbed your arm.

“Oh? And who’s going with you?” You asked.

“Um, Sam,” He said.

“Ha, sure, easy,” You kidded.

“And what about him?” Steve nodded to the conference room. “How long’s this gonna take?”

“Well, with all Tony’s bookmarks, probably the rest of my life,” You grumbled.

“Gee,” He frowned. “I don’t envy you.”

“Rub it in,” You huffed. “I’ll miss you.”

“You too,” He leaned in to kiss you.

Your lips met and you grabbed onto his shoulder. You wanted to kiss him forever just to make him stay. But he had to go and you had to get back to work.

“While interoffice relationships are permitted so long as the proper legal protocol is followed, open displays of affection are prohibited as they are unprofessional and unseemly in the workplace and may lead to discomfort of others.” Loki’s voice cut through the air.

You pulled away from Steve and looked to him aghast. You heard Steve sigh and he hitched his duffle up on his arm. Loki held up the paper and grinned.

“Sorry to interrupt but I finished and… well, I think I’ve learned a lot,” He taunted.

“Apparently,” You turned back to Steve as he glared at Loki. “Sorry, I gotta go but… let me know when you can that you’re safe.”

“Of course,” He tore his eyes from Loki. “I love you.”

“You too,” You patted his chest. “See ya.”

“Yeah,” He shook his head and shot Loki one last sneer. “Bye.”

You watched Steve go and turned back to Loki. You hid your irritation and neared to take his paper.

“Thanks,” You said as you swept back into the conference room.

You sat and checked his work. Perfect, as ever. You were certain he didn’t care about any of this but he never wavered. You added it to the pile and looked up at him. He leaned back in his chair coolly.

“Did I pass, teacher?” He teased.

“Why did you do that?” You asked.

“Just practicing my learning,” He smirked.

You shook your head at him and flipped the page.

“Moving on,” You said.

“Must be difficult. Being apart so much.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” You said. “It’s personal.”

“Apologies,” He said. “I was only attempting small talk.”

“It’s okay,” You said. “I just… to be quite honest, I’m cursing Tony as much as you probably are.”

🐍

Another week of tedium and you were ready to tap out. And you were further irritated that Loki showed no sign of distress. He was just as cool as ever as you went through the ridiculous mandates. Just as irksome as you glanced at your phone between sections. His curious, almost taunting eyes, lit up along with your screen.

But you kept on and on Friday, you let him leave a full twenty minutes early. You stayed another hour as you caught up on the rest of your workload. You barely made a dent but you just wanted to go home and hide in bed. Your empty bed. You hoped Steve would return soon.

You yawned as you drove to your building. Your fatigue mounted as you rode the elevator to your floor and neared the door of your condo. It was unlocked. You hesitated and pushed inside. You blinked as you looked around. The lamp in the living room was on but no other light shone and nothing seemed out of place.

You stepped further inside as you dug your hand into your purse and clutched the can hidden in its depths. Another light came from your bedroom door and you carefully crept down the hall in your heels to peek inside. You pulled out the can and screamed as a shadow appeared in the doorway.

You didn’t have a chance to spray the mace as it was batted out of your hand and the surprised chuckle eased your fears. Steve grabbed your arms as he steadied you. He was freshly showered and smelled of his sandalwood soap. He wore only the pair of old grey sweats with the hole in the knee. You shook your head at yourself and smiled.

“When did you get back?” You asked.

“About an hour ago. Didn’t think I’d beat you home but I had to try,” His hands slipped from your arms and he embraced you. “You miss me?”

“Did you miss me?” You countered.

“Of course,” He bent and kissed your lips, rocking you slightly. He pulled away and lifted a brow. “You look tired. Too tired?”

You giggled and hit his chest. He released you and slid your purse from your arm.

“Don’t worry, I can do all the work,” He offered. “You just get… comfortable.”

He backed away and set your bag on his dresser. You glanced at the chair where you usually put it and shrugged. You stepped out of your shoes and tucked them down beside the dresser. You stood and removed your blazer. Steve moved slowly to the bed and dropped down on his stomach as he watched you, his head cradled in his hand.

You felt like blushing. He hadn’t been like this in a while. The last few times he returned, he’d been tired; quiet. You gave him his space and he came to you after a while. You knew he needed the chance to decompress but sometimes it felt like he thought your time without him was easier. That your job was easier.

You unbuttoned your blouse and tossed it over the chair, shimmied out of your trousers and let them wrinkle on the seat. Your back ached from sitting all day in the chair and your muscles were tense from weeks sitting across from Loki. He was easier to deal with but that little glimmer of paranoia remained.

You unhooked your bra and swung it around before you let it fly across the room. You laughed as Steve hummed and you teasing pushed your fingers under the elastic of your panties. You paused and gave him a cheeky look. He groaned and perked up.

“You need help?” He asked.

“Well, not with these,” You shoved the panties down your thighs and they fell to your feet. “But I wouldn’t mind a nice massage. My back is killing me.”

“Hmm,” He sat up. His pants did little to hide his impatience. “I could do a massage.”

He patted the bed as he shuffled back to the edge. You went to the bed and climbed up. You eased yourself down onto the mattress, your face nestled between the pillows as you sighed. His hand brushed your leg and ran up to squeeze your ass. He urged your legs apart and moved between them.

“You’re tense,” He said as he pushed his hands over your ass and up your back. His fingers traced the scar along your side and lingered there. It was always so sensitive and made you shiver.

“It’s been a long week,” You turned your head to speak.

“Oh yeah?” He wondered. “He… giving you a hard time?”

“Not really but… I don’t wanna think about work.”

“Then don’t,” He ran his thumbs along your shoulder blades and drew a groan from you.

You turned back to the pillows and stretched your arms up around your head. His hands kept moving, firm, attentive, magic. Your voice got louder and louder as he found the knots and the little aches perfectly. It was rare for him to be so thorough. Often he was thinking so much about what came next, he barely glossed across your flesh.

He gripped your hips and you felt his breath on your skin. He laid a trail of kisses along your back; lower, lower, lower. He dragged his lips over your ass and nibbled your thigh, then your other. He urged your pelvis up and you obliged. You bent your legs just a little to support yourself, your head buried in the pillows.

He got down on his elbows as he pushed his head between your legs and slid his tongue along your folds. He gently began to lap and your thighs began to tingle. The flick of his tongue grew more deliberate as he brought his hand up to tease your clit. He poked your entrance with his tongue and hummed.

Your fingers closed around the duvet and you lifted your head. You whined as you felt the pressure building. You breathed through your teeth and your entire body shook. You were surprised by your orgasm, how quickly it swelled and crashed. Your thighs quivered and you bit down on the corner of the pillow as you came.

He kept on and you whimpered. Your voice floated around you as your entire being buzzed. His purrs sent a shiver along your spine as his tongue kept on. Then you heard your name. A hollow tone. Confused, familiar.

The warmth of Steve’s mouth left your cunt and you turned. Frantic you stared at the man in the doorway of your bedroom. You looked between him and the identical figure kneeling on the end of the bed. What the fuck?

The Steve in the doorway stormed the other. They met at the end of the bed and you were almost crushed beneath them as you backed up against the headboard. Scared, you watched them tussle until they rolled onto the floor with a crash. The grunts were startlingly similar.

You crawled across the bed and looked down at the struggle. The panic brewed in your chest. You hopped off and grabbed the naked Steve’s shoulder.

“Get off! What’s going on?!” You pulled and found yourself flung back.

You tried to grab him again and found yourself drawn back by an invisible force around your neck. You were dragged back to the bed, almost choking as the blankets wrinkled beneath you as you tried to latch onto them. You stopped at the headboard and felt along your throat, a searing pain in your palm as the unearthly bound tightened.

You kicked out and the sounds of struggle seemed to fade. You heard Steve groan and watched the naked one stand. He went to the chair and dumped your clothes from it. He carried it to the end of the bed and lifted the other onto the seat. Eerie green lights wrapped around his wrists and ankles, a thicker one snaked around his throat and his lashes fluttered as he tried to blink away his daze.

“What--”

As the naked Steve turned to you, his blond hair darkened to black and his broad shoulders shrunk, a slightly slimmer and taller figure before you. You wriggled and tried to pull at the restraint at your throat once more. You hissed as your hands burned terribly and rescinded them.

“Why?” You kicked your legs and they were stilled by the same odd green glow. “Loki! Stop.”

“Stop? Why, dear…” He turned and slapped Steve’s cheek. Steve shook his head and his blue eyes seemed to focus. “...you were just starting to have fun.”

“Leave him alone,” You tried to get up but were drawn back even more. Your arms were forced out and your ankles tugged further apart. “Loki!”

“Oh, I love to hear my name on your lips,” He purred as he came closer.

He drew a slow circle in the air and your body turned so your head was at the foot of the bed. He knelt and turned your head as he pressed his lips to yours. He devoured you as he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

“Loki!” Steve barked and you heard the chair creak slightly before he cried out. “Lo-ki!” His voice was strained. “Don’t touch--”

Steve’s shouts fizzled out as Loki drew away. You were flipped sharply onto your stomach and you squealed as your head spun. Loki climbed up swiftly and straddled your ass. He ran his hands over your back and squeezed your shoulders.

He leaned over you and grabbed a handful of your hair. He lifted your head so your eyes met Steve’s.

“You want to hate me, Rogers, but you haven’t any reason,” He taunted. “So let me give you one.”

“What do you think Thor will do when he finds out? Tony will--”

“You can tell my brother but he’s forgiven me worse and Tony, well, he could have an unfortunate accident in that lab of his,” Loki slithered. “Or maybe this darling little toy might break before I’m done with her. Pity.”

“You--”

“Would.” Loki insisted as he dropped your head and sat back. He hit the back of your head roughly. “This isn’t love, Rogers. It’s not even a crush. This is just… fun.” His fingers crept down your back as he slid back. “Oh, wouldn’t it be a scandal; the golden avenger murders his own lover. Even if it was an accident, well, that serum of yours… dangerous stuff.”

“No one would believe--” Steve choked before he could finish.

“You think I couldn’t make them? What reason do I have to frame you? And it would be easy enough to stage it all.” Loki preened as he poked between your legs. He rubbed your folds as he spoke. “What they believe hardly matters if she’s gone, eh, Rogers?”

You croaked as the force squeezed your neck and you flailed as you gulped for breath.

“Stop! Stop!” Steve pleaded. The pressure relented and you coughed and gasped. “Loki, please… don’t hurt her.”

“Oh, I never intended to hurt her,” Loki shoved his fingers inside you and you whimpered. “In fact, quite the opposite. Weren’t you having fun, darling?” You closed your eyes and he pinched your thigh. “Darling?”

“Y-yes,” You murmured into the mattress. “Please--”

“Shhh, you don’t have to beg,” He keened. “But I do love to hear it.”

He pushed his legs between yours as he continued to finger you. You could hear Steve’s heavy, angry breaths. Your own were shallow and frantic. Loki spread his fingers and you felt another prod at your entrance. He held you open as he slipped in; two fingers still in you as his cock stretched your walls.

He impaled you and pulled his fingers out. He sighed as he wiggled his pelvis and lifted your ass. He got even deep as his hands grasped your hips. You sniffled as you fought the heat behind your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Steve uttered. You heard the chair wobble but still again as he let out an agonized growl.

“No,” You gulped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t--”

Loki pulled back and slammed into you. You squeaked and he did it again.

“You can have your little reunion when I’m done,” He thrust so hard the bed jolted with each tilt of his hips. “Oh, look at her. She’s shaking again.”

He sped up, a little at a time, until he was hammering into you. You ached from his relentless rhythm and tugged against the bonds. He bent over you and hooked his arms under your shoulders and pulled you up. He bounced you against him, your thighs draped over his as he worked your body.

You bit your lips and turned your head. You couldn’t look at Steve.

“He can’t look away,” Loki whispered in your ear. “I made sure of it.”

You whined as he continued to use you. His hand slid down to your clit as his other arm wrapped around your chest. He pounded into you from below as he began to rub. You felt the same sudden rise. The same irresistible tickle. You gritted your teeth and moaned.

You let out a pathetic sob as you came. Your entire body convulsed and you pushed your head back against Loki’s shoulder. His breath glossed over your cheek and he bent to press his lips to your flesh. He nuzzled further down and bit into your neck. He snarled as he thrust into you hard and deep.

He shuddered as his hips spasmed and he rocked through his orgasm. He came inside you, a sickly flood of warmth. Your arms were kept suspended to either side of you as you struggled to get away from him. You hung your head and squeezed your eyes shut.

He pulled out and let you fall forward. You caught your breath and slowly moved your hand to your throat. You raised yourself shakily and looked to Steve. His eyes were glassy, his lips parted, his face pale.

“Steve,” You reached out to him.

As you made to climb off the bed, you flew back to the mattress, flat on your back. Loki strode around the bed as he snickered. He pushed his long hair away from his face.

“Now, now, you don’t think that’s it, darling.” He licked his lips as he came to the end of the bed and stood between you and Steve. “We have two weeks to make up for. Two. Grueling. Weeks.”

#loki #Steve Rogers #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark loki x reader #dark!loki x reader #fic #one shot #marvel #mcu #dark fic #dark!fic #oneshot

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abyss-in-machines · 4 years ago

Text

The First Move, Chapter 4

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

AO3

She woke up groggy, a mildly thumping headache relentlessly bothering her. Stirring, she slowly unwraps the blankets around her, stopping to wonder in amusement at how carefully they were spread around her. All her memories from yesterday night remained fuzzy, but she still remembered very distinctly just how comfortably and snugly she slept under the blankets. Seita must’ve really taken the time to wrap them around her, probably following Hinowa’s guidance. Tsukuyo finally sits upright, hands on the futon for support, looking around. Her room’s orientation definitely looked… different than usual. She definitely didn’t remember keeping a vast stack of what looked like manga volumes propped up in her room’s corner… maybe she’s seeing things. Hangovers can still be a pain, mentally and physically. Nothing a morning bath and a good smoke after breakfast can’t patch up quick, she murmurs to herself.

I know today’s the start of the weekend, but I just can’t skip work. God, Hinowa...

Parched, she searched around the futon sides, and to her amazement found a flask of water and a small bag with aspirin kept beside the futon. She reaches out immediately, gulping down the water with gusto, and taking an aspirin soon after. Feeling much better, she takes the time to look around. Tsukuyo finally realises the room itself was dimly lit, kept as to make sure to reduce any sunlight coming into the room as much as possible. She shakes her head, finally standing up and slowly walking towards the door. Opening it, she covers her eyes from the light flooding in, walking into what looked like the living room, with two sofas facing each other and a table between, and a desk close to the window. Dazed, she looked around, wondering where the bathroom could be.

“Take a right and go straight, the bathroom's gonna be to your left, close to the entrance doors.” A familiar deep voice spoke. “I got you a toothbrush, so no need to worry about borrowing mine.”

“Ah, thank you, Gintoki,” she mutters back, heading into the direction pointed out slowly. Realization hits like a bucket of cold water seconds later, and she turns around sharply, facing the man who had spoken. “GINTOKI?!?”

There was no mistaking the fish eyed, dead faced samurai. Leaning on the wall, Gintoki looked back, smirking.

“Morning, shinigami-tayuu.”

A good twenty minutes later, after Tsukuyo had gotten over the initial shock and freshened up, they sat close together at the table, with Gintoki having finished laying out the breakfast.

“Fried eggs and rice? Quite fancy of you,” she remarks, digging in.

“Be glad it’s me making the breakfast, not Kagura. She’d just put raw eggs on top and call it a day…”

“I’m thinking you must’ve egged her onto that one…”

“Clever pun, but no,” Gintoki shrugs, waving her off as she giggles. “I kid you not, Kagura’s had wack tastes since the beginning. Comes from having a dunderhead of a brother and an even bigger moron of a father.”

“You really don’t mince words, do you?”

“Really though, they deserve it.”

“Sounds like you’ve had personal experience dealing with it.”

“Ugh, trust me. You don’t wanna know.”

“When was the last time you’ve seen them?” Tsukuyo inquires, curious.

Gintoki takes a small bite of the rice, chewing thoroughly before settling in. “It’s been a while. I know the brother comes by occasionally. He says it's to check on his sister, but we all damn well know that he comes here for the battles.”

“With Okita-kun?”

“Nah,” Gintoki shakes his head. “The Chief Of Police. Seems like he’s taken a liking to her. Says she’s far more aggressive and relentless than Sofa-kun. Now, I’m thinking which way does he mean...”, a kunai hits him squarely in the forehead, startling him. “Oh, c’mon honey…”

“You know why you had that one coming,” she chuckles, and Gintoki leans on the tabletop, groaning out loud. “Say, where are the kids? Didn’t see Kagura around…”

“Well,” Gintoki sighs, straightening up. “It’s not one in the afternoon yet, so she’s definitely still sleeping. I told Shinpachi to take the day off, cause we finished all the requests due over the week, and we don’t accept any requests during the weekend.”

“Yorozuya’s that busy these days, huh,” Tsukuyo marvels, and Gintoki nods in agreement.

“Surprised me too. Since the return, and me settling what was left of the Naraku, the Yorozuya really took off as a local brand name. Beats me how…”

Tsukuyo smiled. The man really was blind to the impact of his own work on the Kabuki district. To say that the residents of Kabuki loved Sakata Gintoki is an understatement. Gintoki is, and always was, a local celebrity. Despite the man’s temperament, Gintoki somehow always had this innate ability to get the people around him to notice, to want to get to know him better. He was someones’ drinking buddy, another’s rival, someone’s friend to turn to. Gintoki is always there to lend a helping hand, even if he offers in that classic tsundere technique of his.

“Anyway, honey,” Gintoki starts, snapping Tsukuyo out of her thoughts. “I gotta say, I usually don’t have mornings this calm and, dare I say, fun. Usually my mornings are pretty loud, thanks to the kids...”

Tsukuyo snorts. “You calling high noon ‘morning’ is a new one. Although, I must admit, I quite enjoyed the brunch. We should probably do this more, darling.” She smirks, noticing him looking away blushing.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmurs, then suddenly perks up. “Granted, we were only able to enjoy this cause I’m still alive from yesterday…” he shudders, alarming Tsukuyo.

“I couldn’t have been that bad yesterday, right…” she asks shakily, as Gintoki flashes her a deadpan, sarcastic look.

“You wish, honey.” Quickly noticing the panicked expression on her face, he sighed, waving. “I was exaggerating, honey. It wasn’t that bad, but it was… quite eventful. You wouldn’t let me go and kept clinging onto me whilst draining Baba's expensive sake to the last drop. Definitely scared the old hag out of her wits for once. I somehow calmed you down and took you upstairs, and put you to bed, where you slept like a child. Explained everything to Baba later, she understood.”

“I’ll go down and apologize immediately,” Tsukuyo exclaims, getting up, but Gintoki caught her hand, motioning her to sit down.

“Calm down, Tsukki, it’s alright,” he soothes, gently caressing her hand, and Tsukuyo looks at him in wonder with disbelieving eyes. How’d the silver buffoon turn so mature all of a sudden? “Told ya I explained it to her. If you really want to-”

“Of course I do!” “Then we’ll go down there together. How about that,” he replies back, smiling, and Tsukuyo’s heart glows even more. What has this man done to her? Better yet, what had happened to him? “Eat up, I’ll take care of the dishes, gotta wake Kagura up for breakf-uh, I mean, brunch.” He winks at her, getting up and grabbing the dishes. Tsukuyo pouts.

“You know, I still have to get to work,” she exclaims, digging into her meal.

“Way ahead of you, already called up Hinowa, she’s got you covered,” he shouts back, smiling at the groan that followed.

Learn to take a break, you damn workaholic…

Tsukki, you work too damn hard…

That was the only thing on Gintoki’s mind as he saw her come back from making some small rounds around town. Of course, she still came all the way back, despite his and Hinowa’s insistence. Tsukuyo disregarded their suggestions, stressing that the rookies in the Hyakka still needed her guidance. True to her word, she had hastily finished brunch, took Gintoki with her downstairs to Otose’s bar, where she apologized profusely for about half an hour, and then finally dragged Gintoki to Yoshiwara. Hinowa was surprised to see the both of them at the doorstep, and Gintoki kept pouting until she finally promised that she’d be back in an hour to enjoy the rest of the day. And again, always being true to her word, she showed up back in an hour, right on time. Even if Gintoki sometimes felt that the drunk terminator was being way too sincere for the new recruits, he understood her plight all too well, along with the burden she was carrying.

“Was she really always like this, Hinowa,” he groans aloud, as he sits close to the porch, peeling off orange skins, waiting on Tsukuyo to finish her bath. Hinowa remained close by, merely smiling at Gintoki’s pouting and nodding back. Gintoki sighs, leaning against the wall.

“How was she like back then, Hinowa?” he asks, wondering aloud.

“Much of the same, Gin-san, except much more serious, I’d say. Dedicated to her work. Tirelessly working to ensure the safety of the courtesans and the citizens of Yoshiwara,” Hinowa sighs, a slight frown forming on her face, which Gintoki is quick to notice. Moments later, however, Hinowa speaks again.

“Gin-san, I’ll be honest,” Hinowa starts. “Seeing Tsukuyo like this has really made me feel happier than I’ve ever felt. All this time, Tsukuyo had been hell bent on dedicating herself to the lifelong mission to protect Yoshiwara. Even with the liberation from Hosen’s rule, and the fiasco that followed after the return of Jiraiya, she had been going on and on, the same routine and the unyielding effort.”

“There are times where I’ve genuinely wondered whether Tsukuyo would ever get to live her life. There’s only so much one can do once they throw themselves into their work. As someone who had been there by her side so long, I’ve worried so much about her. You see, Gin-san, all I ever wanted for her was to live happily.”

Hinowa looks at Gintoki, wearing a small sad smile. “I am glad that you’ve become such an important part of her life now, Gin-san. Trust me when I say it means the world to her to get to spend time with you like this. I’ve never seen her so happy, so content with life. The Tsukuyo that I knew from so long ago would never have been able to dream of a time where she’d get to spend time with me and Seita so long, and get to enjoy a serious, fulfilling relationship with the love of her life. It’s beyond a courtesan’s wildest dreams, a delirious illusion at the most. And yet you broke through all of reality’s hurdles like it was nothing, and granted her something far greater than what dreams would have promised.”

Gintoki silently listens, taking in everything that Hinowa just said. Straightening up, he kneels in front of her, head bowed.

“I will do everything in my power to protect that happiness, Hinowa,” Gintoki solemnly states. “She means the world to me, she truly does. I never expected to find my own happiness in this world for a long time, but being with her made me realise that maybe I did have a chance at finding that happiness. Even if it was all just to be by her side, I would’ve happily obliged, but she allowed me to be a part of her world, and I will never take that for granted.”

“I will never take her for granted,” Gintoki utters, bowing down. He lifts his head up to see tears flowing down Hinowa’s cheeks.

“I know you won’t, Gin-san. I know you won't.”

After talking to Hinowa for some time more, and eating up some of the orange slices he had carefully peeled out, Gintoki heads for Tsukuyo’s room, wondering what was taking her so long. He didn’t need to wonder for long. After knocking on her door for a while, he finally slides the door open carefully, just to see Tsukuyo lying down on the futon, deep in sleep. She jolts up quickly at the noise, despite his cautiousness.

“Oh, Gintoki…,” she starts, slowly propping herself upright as Gintoki walks up to her. “So sorry, felt like I’d take a little nap before I’d join you and Hinowa downstairs… seems like I dozed off…”

Gintoki snorts, as he sits by her side. “Figured you would. Just in case, I got you a glass of water along with oranges. You better eat the orange slices, Gin-san worked too hard to ensure they were peeled to perfection, you know.”

“For God’s sake, Gintoki, they’re just orange slices,” Tsukuyo laughs, as she reaches out for a piece, but Gintoki’s ahead of her already, grabbing a slice and bringing it close to her mouth.

“Say ‘aah’, sleepyhead,” he teases. Tsukuyo can’t help but giggle.

“Fine, you win, Gintoki,” she replies, as accepts his helping hand. “For some reason, I’m feeling extra sleepy today. Your laziness is finally rubbing off on me, I see.”

“Point one for Gin-san on the board,” Gintoki announces, and Tsukuyo responds by throwing a pillow. “Woah, no kunais?” he asks, and he's suddenly whisked close to her, as she plants a quick, passionate kiss on his cheek.

“Not today,” she states happily, grinning at the blushing samurai.

Work was tougher than usual today...

Tsukuyo made her way through the roads in the Kabuki district to Otose’s bar. She’d just wrapped up Hyakka business for the week, and had planned to visit the silver-haired samurai once she was done. On the way, however, Tsukuyo feels uneasy. Her body was sweating profusely despite the cool evening weather, and her muscles seemed to ache even more than usual after the work. Normally, Tsukuyo would chalk it up to the usual overtime grind taking a toll on the body, but Tsukuyo knew perfectly well that today was just an ordinary day at the office, nothing more. There was no reason why she’d feel this bad…

Deep in her thoughts, Tsukuyo notices the bar coming into view, and walks on. She had barely taken ten steps in the direction of the bar when she’s suddenly hit with a disarming headache. Barely keeping sight as she bears the dizziness, she slowly trudges on, approaching the bar outskirts, where she notices the android maid with the shining green hair.

“Tama… chan…” Tsukuyo stutters, as she gives into the exhaustion, collapsing to the ground.

#gintsu #tsukuyo gintama #sakata gintoki #gintama #gintoki x tsukuyo #romcom #fanfic #gintama fanfiction

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snelbz · 4 years ago

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The Ranch {19}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @snelbz x @tacmc

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

Nesta stood in the paint department and looked at the wall of samples in front of her. She wanted something light, but something that stood out, too. She didn’t want anything like her father had chosen back in the nineties and-.

She shook her head, trying to free her head of the deja vu that washed over her and chuckling quietly. She had been here before, had done this before. Things were just...a little different this time.

As if she wanted to remind her mother of this fact, Nesta felt a sharp pain against her ribs and she inhaled sharply through her teeth. Beau looked up at her, brown eyes wide. He hadn’t left her side since the beginning of her third trimester and Nesta had learned to love the constant, comforting presence.

“Your sister is using my ribs as a punching bag,” she told him, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t understand her. He opened his mouth in what Nesta swore was a smile and his tongue hung to the side.

He always smiled when they talked about the baby.

Nesta was floored as she realized how different her life had become in twelve months. A year ago, she’d been deciding whether or not she should give up everything she’d ever wanted, to move home and run her father’s crumbling dream of a bed and breakfast. Now she was about to have a baby, her perfect, little girl, and she was going to marry the man of her dreams, the man who gave her the gift she never thought possible.

“Nesta?”

She froze, recalling how someone had called her name the last time she’d been here, who it had been when she turned. But it wasn’t Tomas, just Azriel standing in his old, torn jeans and black hoodie. Out of all of them, it was Azriel who looked the least the part of a rancher, but he sure as hell knew what he was doing.

“Cass said you were running into town, but this was the last place I thought I’d see you,” Azriel said, when Nesta said nothing.

Nesta, collecting her thoughts, gestured to the wall of paint samples. “Nursery color.”

“Ah,” Azriel said, huffing a laugh as he stopped next to her and looked at the wall. Beau brushed up against his leg, and he gave the pup a loving scratch behind the ears. “What about purple?”

Nesta frowned, looking at the endless samples of purple. She had gone over the lavender hues ten times already. “Too predictable. Pink, too. I’ve ruled them both out.”

Azriel chuckled. “Fair enough. Cass wants to paint it green.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. She had to admit that she had her eye on a neutral olive color, but it didn’t seem right, it wasn't special enough. “So I’ve been told. I told him no, though.”

It was true. In fact, the night before they’d had a heated debate over what color the nursery would be. It ended in them making love on the nursery’s carpet, but that was irrelevant.

“How about blue?” Azriel suggested, picking up a few different swatches. “There are a ton of different shades of blue, surely there’s one you two can agree on.”

It was her favorite color, but it limited her decorating choices. Both the camouflage and rodeo nursery ideas were nixed last night as well, and Cassian was still pouting about it.

“I’ve been leaning towards a softer yellow or orange.” She lifted a buttery yellow card from its slot. It was too bright, too rich. She added it to the stack, knowing it may look different away from the fluorescent lights. “Like the sunrise. First light.”

Azriel was nodding. “Why don’t you ask Feyre to paint the sunrise?”

Nesta was going to blame her stupidity on pregnancy brain as her eyes went wide and she said, “I hadn’t even thought of that. She’d love that.”

Azriel just smiled, softly. “Feyre would be honored, if you asked her.”

Nesta nodded, slowly, then picked out a couple different shades of yellows and oranges. “Since you’re here, please take me to get some tacos. I’ll buy. Might even bring some home to Cass, if he’s been good this morning.” Azriel’s grin widened as they began walking toward the exit. “A little cranky, I must say, but I think that’s just because he’s hungover.”

Nesta snorted. After their fight over paints, he’d indulged himself - one beer too many, perhaps. “It doesn’t take much to be hungover when you wake up at five a.m.”

“True,” Azriel agreed. “I could do tacos, though.”

“Good,” Nesta said, putting the paint swatches into her purse as she and Azriel walked out onto the sidewalk, Beau close behind.

It wasn’t until they were down the street at a taco vendor’s food truck that Nesta asked, “So, when the hell are you going to ask my sister to marry you?”

The bite he’d been in the process of taking nearly came back out. Nesta didn’t even flinch. She’d spent so much time throwing up in the past eight months that partially chewed food didn’t even phase her. She blinked and waited for him to collect himself before he took a drink of the Corona in his hand.

“You just go straight for the balls, don’t you?” He laughed.

She raised her eyebrows. “Have you met my fiancé?”

“Fair enough,” he laughed, but he sighed. “You want the honest truth?”

Nesta suddenly realized she wasn’t sure. She was meddling and the only person who hated meddling more than she did was Elain. But she nodded.

Az took a deep breath and said, “I’ve had the ring for almost six months.”

“What?” Nesta’s eyes must have nearly bulged out of her head, because Az backed up a step. “And why exactly haven’t you proposed?”

His smile was soft but proud, as he said, “I don’t want to take this time from you, or from Cassian. You’re having a baby. Like, Nesta, you’re growing a literal human inside of yourself.” He chuckled and smiled fondly. “Did you know that even when we were in high school all Cass wanted from life was to rope and have a family. You’re giving him one of those things and I can’t ever thank you for making my brother so happy. And I don’t want to take that spotlight from y’all. I want you to have your moment, so that when the time comes, Elain can have hers.”

Nesta hated Azriel for making her cry over her taco, and yet, tears were sliding down her cheeks as she set her taco back down onto her plate and observed him. Eventually, she cleared her throat and said, “Elain is a lucky woman.”

Azriel just shook his head as he took another bite. “That woman deserves the world. If anyone’s lucky, it’s me.”

Nesta found herself completely overwhelmed. A year ago, she hadn’t believed love existed, but now? Her and Cassian, Elain and Azriel, Feyre and Rhysand...this type of love was rare, Nesta was sure of it, but somehow they all ended up in a fairytale romance. Her sisters were happy, she was happy...it was perfect.

“Don’t tell your sister that I made you cry,” Azriel went on, shoving the last of his taco into his mouth. “She’ll kick my ass. She’s scary when she wants to be.”

She shook her head, dabbing at her eyes with a scratchy napkin. “She’ll understand when you knock her up. I cried yesterday during a Christmas commercial.” Azriel waited, knowing that was somewhat common. “A commercial for cattle feed.”

He nodded. “I believe you. Doesn’t change the fact that your sister will punch me in the dick if she finds out I was the cause of your tears.”

They both laughed and Nesta smiled. “Thank you for making her so happy.”

Az gave her that full smile that so many rarely saw. “It’s my pleasure.”

Nesta finished her tacos and ordered some for Cassian for the road. “Word of advice,” she said, getting into her car. Beau already patiently sat in the passenger seat. “Don’t ask her on a holiday. Girls don’t want to share their special day.”

Azriel’s eyebrows raised. “I...hadn’t thought of that.”

Nesta chuckled. “You were going to propose on New Years, weren’t you?”

He nodded once. “Yes, I was.”

She laughed, full and bright, and said, “How about this? You tell me when it’s time, I’ll plan a family dinner and voila, you’ve got yourself a fiancée.”

“Really?” Azriel asked, stopping in front of the driver’s side of the truck’s door.

“Of course,” Nesta said, crossing her arms, the bag of Cassian’s food hanging on her arm.

“Thank you,” he said, and she knew by the look in his eyes that he meant it.

Although they were going to the same place, they said their goodbyes and Nesta drove home, slowly. By the time she made it back home to the ranch with her paint swatches, Cassian was mowing the lawn. He was shirtless, of course, and was chugging a bottle of water as he rode the lawn mower across the grass. As Nesta pulled into the driveway, he was waving and putting it in park.

He was covered in sweat, but Nesta still didn’t stop him as he pressed his lips to the side of her head. “The grass was long.”

Nesta nodded. She had wanted to ask him to mow, considering she was too pregnant to do so, but hadn’t wanted to interrupt his daily plans. “I brought you tacos.”

“Mmm, that’s exactly why I’m marrying you,” he said, pulling her onto his sweaty lap and opening the box in her hands.

She squirmed out of his arms, as best as she could at eight and a half months pregnant and said, “I’m going to go hang the swatches on the wall, come see when you’re done?”

He nodded, shoving an entire taco in his mouth.

She chuckled, but shivered as a brisk wind blew by. “Cass, I know the sun is straight on you, but it’s forty-five degrees out. Don’t you think you should put a shirt on?”

He finished chewing and said, “How else will I keep my tan year round?”

She shook her head and said, “I’ll be inside, call me if you need me. I love you.”

He smiled at her, those hazel eyes sparkling from the joy he felt inside. “I love you too, darlin’.”

She turned and started up the porch steps and heard, “Hey.”

Nesta looked back at him and he asked, the sparkle replaced by his usual mischievous glint, “You got any green swatches in there?”

Nesta rolled her eyes as Azriel pulled the truck in next to her little car. “No.”

She continued up into the house, laughing when she heard Az ask why the hell he wasn’t wearing a shirt. She pulled the swatches out of her purse, including the couple of greens she’d snagged on their way out, along with her phone and she and Beau made their way up to her old room.

The room that she grew up in was the same room her daughter would too.

As she was taping swatches to the room, in various lighting, she called Feyre, putting her phone on speaker.

“Hello?” her sister answered a second later.

“Hey,” Nesta said, looking around the room. “I have a favor to ask.” “Ask away,” Feyre said.

Nesta admired the swatches she had chosen before clearing her throat. “Would you mind...helping me paint the baby’s nursery?”

There was a slight pause, then Feyre’s quiet voice came through, “Of course.”

“I was thinking the sunrise,” Nesta continued, trying not to cry for the tenth time that day. “Bright, cheery, calming.”

“I can do that,” Feyre breathed. “I can come by this weekend?”

“Perfect,” Nesta agreed. There was a few seconds of silence before Nesta said, “Thank you.”

“Anything for my niece,” Feyre said, then added, “And anything for you. And that idiot fiancé of yours.”

Nesta peeked out the window where Cassian was still mowing without his shirt on. He always acted like it was spring, even in the winter. Although their town stayed pretty mild, winter-wise, there was still a little chill in the air. “Idiot he is, but he’s my idiot.”

Feyre chuckled. “Still on for dinner tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Nesta promised. “I’ll see you then.”

They said their goodbyes before Nesta was left alone, in the silence, observing the room around her. Five minutes of planning in her head passed before heavy boots padded up the stairs and Cassian appeared, now wearing a hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. “Can I help with anything?”

She was admiring the colors in the direct sunlight. “You can tell me which of these you like best.”

“Hmm.” He came up behind her, pressing his big hands against her belly. Even as round as she was, even at over eight months pregnant, his hands still covered most of it. But then they slid upwards until he was cupping a breast in each hand. He made a show of weighing them and squeezing them gently, and said, “I don’t know, I think I’m pretty partial to the left one.”

She rolled her eyes, laughing, and pushed away from him, walking towards the wall. “I meant color, baby.”

“Oh, well that’s easy,” he snorted, coming in closer as well.

It turned out that it was, in fact, not easy.

After forty-five minutes of arguing and an almost silent quickie with the door open to make up, they had narrowed it down to New Spring Chick and Frosted Tropical Apricot.

They would let Feyre make the final decision in the morning.

“Don’t you have to get back out there?” Nesta asked.

Cassian shook his head. “For now, Az has it covered, it’s been an easy day. I was thinking you and I could go out to dinner, though.”

Nesta lifted a brow. “Dinner?”

Cassian nodded, then gestured to her belly. “We only have so much more time before baby comes. We should have a date night while we can.”

Nesta watched him for a moment before saying, “Okay, fine. But does this mean I have to get dressed up?”

Cassian grinned. “You could wear fucking sweatpants for all I care, but I’m taking you out.”

She wouldn’t wear sweatpants, but she also didn’t plan on wearing another real pair of pants until after this baby was out of her.

Cassian pressed a soft kiss to her stomach, which he did every chance he took, and left to go take a much needed shower. Nesta got ready, slipping on a pair of comfy black leggings and a baggy sweatshirt. Cass ended up dressing nearly identically, except he did wear sweatpants.

They hopped in the “play truck” and right before they left, Cassian said, “Shit, I’ll be right back.”

Nesta sat straight up, hands forming a protective cage around her stomach. “What? Is everything okay?”

He jogged into the house and came back out a minute later, backpack tossed over his shoulder. Climbing back into the truck, he tossed it in the backseat and put it in reverse.

“What is that?” she asked. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“This,” Cass replied, putting his free hand in Nesta’s and rubbing soothing circles into the back of her hand, “is our emergency bag. It’s got everything we’ll need in it in case you go into labor. Clothes, insurance paperwork, phone chargers, snacks.” He began a smooth back and forth motion. “Diapers, binkies, onesies, little socks and blankets, and everything else our precious girl is going to need.”

She blinked, and hated that tears were, once again, rolling down her cheeks. “You have truly thought of everything, haven’t you?”

Cassian shrugged. “You’re literally growing my child inside of you. As your baby daddy, it’s my job to take as much stress off of you as possible.”

Nesta leaned over the center console and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Thank you.”

He grinned, fully satisfied with himself, as he pulled onto the road and headed into town. They drove to a little Italian restaurant because Nesta had mentioned she could use a plate full of breadsticks. Cassian ordered it to go, though, and hopped back into the truck before driving a mile down the road to the old high school. He parked in the parking lot before hopping out and putting down the truck bed.

“Come on, babe,” he called, already taking the boxes of pasta out of the bag. When Nesta came around, he helped her onto the back of the truck before joining her there, his thigh brushing hers.

She ate her alfredo happily, indeed chowing down on an insane number of breadsticks that Cassian swore he didn’t count.

He was rubbing her feet when she asked, voice quiet, “Are you scared?”

He looked at her, at how she was staring off toward the football field, pretending not to notice him staring at her. “Am I scared of doing something stupid? Yes. Am I scared it’s going to be a lot more than we’re expecting? Yes. Am I scared we’re going to get in over our heads? Yes. Am I scared that there’s about to be a miniature version of you running around? Hell yes.” He turned her face toward his, forcing her to look at him. “But am I scared to be a father? No. Am I scared to meet our daughter? No. Am I scared to do this with you? Absolutely not.”

She whispered, “Quit making me cry.”

But he shook his head, softly. “I love you, Nesta. And yeah, I am scared, but I can’t wait. This little girl already has me wrapped around her finger and she’s not even here yet.”

A tear slid down her cheek that he quickly reached up and brushed away. “Are you scared?”

Nesta took a moment to think about it, but then she sighed. “Yes, and no. It’s complicated.”

Cassian chuckled, in full understanding.

“I’m scared because I don’t know what to expect,” she said, after a minute. “I’m not sure how to handle the not knowing.”

“That’s why we have each other, sweetheart,” he kissed the top of her head. “Come on, let’s get home. I have a shitload of furniture to build tonight.”

The egregiously overpriced infant's bedroom suit that Nesta had seen online had been delivered that afternoon. Cassian couldn’t understand how Nesta could justify spending as much as some people spent on a vehicle on furniture that was just going to get covered in shit and baby barf.

Not to mention that it had been shipped from overseas.

They packed up their trash and got back in the truck, heading for home.

“While I carry all of the boxes upstairs, why don’t you take a nice bath, baby?” He asked. “And then when you’re done, you can read me instructions that I won’t listen to while I figure out how to put it all together.”

Nesta shook her head, unable to stop herself from chuckling. “At least you’re honest.”

He took her hand and pressed his lips against her knuckles. “I am that.”

Nesta had to admit that the thought of a bath sounded incredible, though, so she didn’t argue. Once they got home, Nesta was making her way, slowly, up the porch, inside, and up the stairs while Cassian got to work on gathering the boxed nursery furniture. They had a changing table, a bookshelf, a dresser, and a crib, all of which Nesta had bought from a small French boutique that had always caught her eye in Paris. When Cassian asked why they couldn’t just go into town and buy something that was already assembled, Nesta’s answer was simple: she was getting what she wanted, and she wanted the modern, white, sleek furniture she’d on her walk to work every day.

Cassian didn’t argue.

While she was soaking in the tub, she could hear Cass moving around in the other room. She’d hear a thump as a box was dropped or something would start dragging across the floor. At one point, she heard a loud bang followed by Son of a bitch!

Nesta laughed quietly to herself and smoothed a hand over her belly, which stuck out of the water by a considerable amount. “Daddy’s getting your room put together, sweet girl, and then we’re ready for you to get here whenever you are.”

She leaned her head back against the cool, porcelain tub, sighing happy. Life had become so crazy lately, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be stressed about it.

Her phone vibrated on the small table by her head and when she leaned up to glance at it, her hand slipped on the slick surface. The table knocked against the tub and Nesta gasped as her phone fell into the water.

“Shit,” she breathed, grabbing it out and tossing it onto a nearby towel. She decided that was the end of her bath and got out drying herself off and getting dressed.

She tried to power her phone back on, knowing she shouldn’t but hoping it hadn’t been in the water long enough to do any damage. The logo popped up in the middle of the screen then it went black and began to make a whirring noise.

“Damn it.” She sighed and made her way downstairs, throwing it in a bag of rice to see if it could be salvaged. Otherwise, it looked like she’d be going into town the next day for a new phone.

Cassian was padding down the stairs a moment later, his brows furrowed. He took one look at Nesta and froze, then looked down at her phone in the bag of rice. “Your phone take a bath, too?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe.” With a deep sigh, she leaned back against the counter. “I’m pissed.”

“Me too,” Cassian mumbled, throwing open the fridge and grabbing two beers. “I’ve decided that I hate France. Or at least French furniture. Fuck France and their fancy furniture.”

Nesta snorted and came up behind him, attempting to wrap her arms around his waist, but over her giant bump, she hardly managed to reach around his sides.

Cassian's body shook with silent laughter as he turned to face her. “Bump in the way?” He asked, before setting one of his beer cans on the top of it, which only made Nesta roll her eyes.

“It’s not a table,” she laughed.

“Seems pretty convenient to me,” he shrugged, popping open a can and chugging it down. He brushed his hand over her bump, and just when he touched, baby girl kicked wildly from inside, which only made Nesta groan.

“That either means that she loves me, or that she’s telling me to fuck off,” Cassian said, which made Nesta laugh. After he kissed her forehead, then the bump with the wild, little Nazari inside, he said, “Alright, baby mama, come upstairs and watch me struggle.”

She smirked and headed for the stairs as he tossed the empty can in the trash, opened the second and grabbed a third to take upstairs. “I already do that on the daily. What’s so different about building furniture?”

She heard him mimic her words in a mocking tone and she laughed as she topped the stairs and made her way into the nursery.

It looked like a styrofoam factory exploded. There were pieces everywhere and screws littering the little catch-all tray he pulled from his tool box. She sighed, realizing it was going to be a long night.

But when she looked out the window, into the starry, cloudless night, and screamed Cassian’s name, she forgot all about furniture and messy packing materials. She forgot all about her phone lying useless on the kitchen counter. She even, for a moment, forgot her own name.

Because the stables were catching on fire.

Cassian was instantly behind her, his eyes wide as he swore violently. “Stay here,” he ordered, and then he was gone, pulling out his phone on the way out the nursery door.

Nesta could only stare in horror as Cassian's dark figure, only outlined by the light of the moon, sprinted down the path that led to the stables.

It was quickly going up in flames, all consuming, raging flames. Nesta didn’t understand how it could have happened.

Only moments ago, she had been down in the kitchen and the stables were fine.

Then, the thought that had her heart stopping entered her mind. It hadn’t been an accident, couldn’t have been an accident, but that didn’t make any sense.

A slow panic crept into the pit of her stomach, she was breathing heavier, her heart beating wildly as she sobbed, holding onto her bump, the only thing that allowed her to keep her sanity.

Nesta remembered that Az had told her he’d put the horses in the pasture this morning, since it wasn’t supposed to rain, and she was thankful to whatever god whispered in his ear and told him to do so.

She needed to call someone, needed to get the fire department here. Needed to call her sisters, to call Az. Without thinking, she turned and ran from the room, carefully making her way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Her phone wasn’t on the counter where she’d left it and she frantically looked around the kitchen.

She plunged into near darkness as the lights went out and a frightened scream burst from Nesta, followed by a sob.

She needed Cassian.

She screamed his name, her voice full of shaking terror as she reached around, trying to find something to hold onto. Eventually, her hands found the edge of the counter and she told herself to breath, in and out. Stress wasn’t good for the baby, panic wasn’t good for the baby.

But she couldn’t help it, and as if the infant in her womb knew that something horrible was happening, she kicked wildly.

Nesta felt the need to puke but she couldn’t move, not in the darkness, not as far from the city as they were. Even as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she couldn’t see through the endless tears.

She tried one more time to scream Cassian’s name, but her voice came out broken, terrified, and it was no use, he was too far away.

She thought she heard a door open and close across the house and she froze. Her voice cracked as she called, “Cass?”

There was no answer.

Something was wrong, something was very, very wrong. She held onto the counter as she quickly ran for the back door - only to find that it was jammed shut, a two-by-four under the doorknob preventing it from opening.

She began to hyperventilate as she realized that this, all of this, was deliberate. The fire still blazed outside, and Nesta heard a creak from the old, wood flooring in the other room. Her blood chilled as she realized that she wasn’t alone in the house.

She ran for the front door, finding it stuck shut as well. “Please, please, please!” She sobbed, pulling on the door as hard as she could. There were unmistakably footsteps from the dining room and she cried, “Please, I’m pregnant, please.”

She hurried back to the kitchen as quietly as she could and silently opened a drawer, pulling out a large knife. She held it out, blindly as she took shuddering breaths.

Then he appeared, in the doorway, wearing a dark hoodie, the hood pulled up. He was tall, his shoulders broad, but slim.

She knew who it was.

She would be foolish to convince herself it wasn’t him. He hadn’t gotten what he wanted from her, had stalked her for months without saying a word. He didn’t come any closer.

Nesta did not lower her knife.

She tried to convince herself to look unafraid, to sound calm, but she couldn’t help the tears that continued to stream down her face.

Inside of her womb, the infant became utterly still.

Nesta swallowed and lifted her chin. “Leave,” she ordered, the demand echoing in the silence. “Or I will kill you, and I will not hesitate.”

Even as she said the words, she wasn’t convinced they were true.

Cassian couldn’t breathe. There was smoke in his eyes, it was unbearably hot, and he couldn’t stop coughing, but then he was out in the fresh night air, his back hitting the soft grass.

He knew that Az had led the horses out before he left today, had watched him take them out one by one, but he had to make sure. He had to verify that there wasn’t one down somewhere.

He found nothing, not a horse or person inside.

Except the overwhelming smell of gasoline.

This fire wasn’t natural, it was intentional. This fire was set.

He’d called Azriel before his feet had hit the landing of the stairs telling him what was happening and asking him to call the fire department. He didn’t know what else to do. It’s not like he could turn on the garden hose and put it out. With as much accelerant was used, it would burn all night.

He knew exactly who it was, he didn’t try to delude himself into anything else.

A truck door slammed and Feyre and Rhys were running toward him.

“What happened?” He asked, helping him stand. Cassian saw that his arm was covered in soot. “I have no idea. We were building baby furniture and the barn was fine, came down to the kitchen so I could grab a beer, and when Nes got back upstairs it was in a blaze.” He coughed, but continued, “Smells like a damn Mapco in there, there was so much gasoline dumped.”

“Gasoline?” Feyre asked, covering her mouth in horror.

Cassian nodded. “Tomas did this.”

Rhysand stilled as Feyre’s face paled.

“I have to go to Nesta,” she breathed, backing away from the fire, even though she wasn’t close to it. She glanced back at the dark. “Is she down at the cabin?”

Cassian’s face fell as he glanced up at the big house, then, he was sprinting.

If Tomas had done this, which Cassian was sure he did, he would still be close. He ran without stopping, without a breath, until he was up the back porch. The door was wide open, a piece of wood sitting off to the side.

Cassian was inside of the kitchen before he screamed, “Nesta?!”

There was no reply in the dark house, no movement or creak or whisper. He frantically flicked the light switch, nothing happening.

“What’s going on?” Feyre called, catching up and coming up the stairs.

Cassian opened his mouth to reply, but there was a banging from the front of the house. “Nesta?!”

He was running through the dark house immediately, finding Azriel and Elain on the other side of the front door. It was jammed closed as well. “Move!”

They did as he said and he put all of his weight into the motion as he tried to shove the door open. On the second try, it gave way.

Elain was already crying when she and Az ran in. He said, “Fire department is on the way.”

Cassian was about to say something when Rhysand’s shaking voice called out from the kitchen. “Cass… come here.”

The sound of his voice chilled Cassian’s blood. He hurried back, could see from the glow that either Feyre or Rhys was using their phone’s flashlight function.

He stumbled into the kitchen, nearly tripping over himself and ran to the other side of the island.

He froze.

One of the kitchen knives was missing from its spot in the open drawer, but it laid on the floor, just a few feet away.

There was so much blood.

She was gone. He took her. By taking her, he took them both.

Cassian heaved over the kitchen sink, everything within his stomach emptying out. He knew he was crying, but he didn’t care. He knew he was sobbing, but no one tried to comfort him. Knew no one was sure how.

Nesta was gone. His baby girl was gone. Tomas had taken them. They were gone, the only hunch of where they had gone written on the kitchen floor: a long kitchen knife and a puddle of blood.

Cassian was ready to set the world on fire.

“I have to find her,” he breathed, he cried, as his face fell into his hands next to the kitchen sink. “I will find her.”

“Cass-.”

“No,” Cassian interrupted Rhysand before he could even say a word. “He’s out there, and he has my fucking fiancée and child!”

But Rhysand only shook his head. “I know. I’m coming, too.”

“Me too,” Azriel agreed, then looked to Elain, who nodded.

“We'll take care of things around here,” Elain promised. “Go to the police. Now.”

Cassian was already near the front door, just as a fire truck pulled onto the grounds.

“I’ll go talk to them,” Feyre said, and kissed Rhysand quickly on the cheek before hurrying out the back door, Elain close behind.

Cassian was looking around the house as he walked, even though he’d already searched the entirety of it. Rhysand and Azriel were on his heels as they exited through the front door.

Rhysand’s truck had the most room, and they knew letting Cassian drive wasn’t the smartest. The first logical place to go was the Carlson ranch, only to find it deserted. Cassian looked at the window, where he’d hurled the brick back at him.

“Where would they go?” Azriel asked, kicking something aside as they searched through his workshop.

Rhysand’s phone rang and he answered it. A quick conversation took place, and Feyre said the police needed to talk to Cassian.

They loaded back up into the truck and went back to the ranch. The police were there, along with the fire department and an ambulance, and the second Cassian’s feet hit the ground, questions were being asked.

“What happened?”

Cassian replayed the situation, from the second Nesta had noticed the fire blazing up until the point he realized they were missing.

“You have to find her,” he told the police, after he told his story. “She’s thirty-eight weeks pregnant, nearly ready to go into labor, you have to fucking find her.”

“We will do everything we ca-.”

“Find her!” he yelled, grabbing the cop he’d been talking to by the shoulders. No one reacted, everyone stayed calm, even the cop that was being grabbed.

The young cop simply took a deep breath before saying, “We will look for her, adamantly, starting now.”

Cassian released his shoulders and nodded, and said in a quiet voice. “Thank you, just… I have to get them back.”

He looked over to where the stables once stood. Now it was a smoldering pile of wood and cinders, all that time put in, all those memories. Gone up in a blaze.

They told Cassian he couldn’t stay in their house that night, that they’d be combing through it for any evidence.

He asked a passing officer, “Will you please, please tell me if that’s her blood?”

The dark red hair, the amber eyes. He was a Vanserra, no doubt.

He nodded. “As soon as we know something, we’ll let you know.”

They let Cassian go in, accompanied by Elain, to get what he would need for the next few days.

Elain did most of the packing, although she cried the whole time. Cassian couldn’t stay focused though, couldn’t concentrate on anything other than her.

All he could think about was Nesta and their baby, where they were, what he was doing to them.

But per the cops request, Cassian went home with Azriel and Elain to wait for further word.

But he didn’t sleep, didn’t rest.

And he wouldn’t until he found them.

Nesta, and his baby girl.

#theranchnessian #sharacollab #snelbz tacmc collab #snacmc #nessian

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honeypirate · 4 years ago

Text

little bird WYSNE pt 5

Masterlist

I had a few ideas on how to end it but I didn’t like any of them and this is what I settled on which isn’t too exciting but has the feelings conversation.

Kakashi x femreader

You woke alone and now you were discharged alone. The doctors say you were dropped off by Kakashi and then he left with Yukie, no note. No nothing.

You exit the hospital and take a deep breath of the cool air, summer was giving way to autumn and you could smell it. The village wasn’t that far away, a few days of a trip. You weren’t far from where you were attacked and as you look in the direction you scowl, acid rising to the back of your throat. You turned, threw your pack on your back, and began your journey home.

You weren’t mad he left. Just a little a lot tiny bit hurt. But you couldn’t really be hurt because it was the ninja way, don’t let feelings get in the way. You couldn’t continue the mission so he had to finish it. Especially because you had the girl.

Hopefully, you thought, it was just because of the mission. Not because of your eyes. But the way she asked why your eyes were red haunts your unconscious mind.

~~~awww here’s a nightmare sequence ~~~

“Y/n?” Kakashi cried, his mask gone and he was shirtless, cuffed to a chair. You look up and around you in a panic. The room was round and made of mirrors, all reflecting your red eyes back to you. You gasp and try to change them back but you can’t. Your eyes find your parents behind you in the reflection but they aren’t there when you turn around. You feel tears start to stream down your face and you look back down to Kakashi, your eyes activate the moment you make eye contact and he screams.

“Why are you doing this?” He cried out, blood running from his nose and ears, starting to run down the corners of his eyes.

“No no no Kakashi no I didn’t I wouldn’t” you’re babbling incoherently as you try to loosen his bands, your fingers frantically trying to untie or tear. You reach for your knives but your bag on your hip is filled with blood. You start to hyperventilate as you pull your fingers back. Kakashi starts to cough up blood “it’s your eyes. It’s all because of those eyes” he mutters as he chuckles, his head going limp against his chest and as he breathes heavily, you can hear liquid in his lungs.

You reach out and cup his cheeks, holding his head up so you can look at him “Kakashi” you whisper as you panic. There is nothing you can do to help him and he says you did this to him. You feel tears continue to pour from your eyes and when you look up into the mirror you see your tears are blood. You gasp and that’s when you wake up.

You jolt upright from your place in the treetops and take a shaky inhale. you look down at your hands which are shaking uncontrollably. You close them into fists and hold them between your thighs taking slow deep inhales to try and calm yourself down. big drops of water land on your hands and you look up to the sky before realizing it’s coming from you. Tears streaming down your cheeks.

“God it was just a stupid dream why” you whisper as you frantically wipe away the tears. You decide that you’ve had enough sleep, you can see the sky lightening on the horizon and that was good enough for you. You waited until your tears stopped, then until your hands stopped shaking and at that time your breathing evened out so packed up your things and walked down the tree.

The couple days pass quick and uneventful and soon you reach the gates.

“Y/n! You’re back!” Genma says when he sees you approach and you raise your hand “kakashi came back a couple weeks ago and said you had some trouble, leaving you in the hospital” he hops down from the watch and you laugh awkwardly “yeah I got a little hurt but I’m okay now. Clean bill of health” he smirks and shoves his hands in his pockets “maybe I could take you out sometime since you’re back” he says as he twists his senbon in his teeth. You laugh and smile with a nod “yeah maybe you could. I’ll let you know after I speak with the Hokage” he winks “you do that” he says making you chuckle and shake your head as you walk into the city “see you soon Genma!” You say as you throw your hand over your shoulder.

Genma was attractive and you would be lying if you said you didn’t have a little crush on him and his senbon. But you couldn’t go down that road unless you knew for sure Kakashi and you had come to a dead end. He flirted with you all the time though and it always made you feel a little better to have some harmless flirting instead of the heavy conversations of missions and conspiracies.

You knocked on the office door and her voice called out to come in. “Y/n good you’re back. Kakashi filled us in and debriefed. He said you did amazing protecting them and you just had to rest up and heal.” She puts out a stack of papers and you sign your name at the bottom next to Kakashi’s signature, formally ending the mission. “We don’t have anything for you right now, take a few days and then come back to me” she waves her hand signaling that she’s done. You bow “yes ma’am” you say before leaving her office.

Back at your apartment you sigh, putting all your dirty things in the hamper and preparing another bag to go when you get another mission. You bathe and then lay down in your bed sighing and stare at your overhead fan slowly turning. You don't know how long you’ve laid there but when you get up again it looks like it’s around noon.

You get a bowl of ramen from Ichiraku and sit in the corner eating, not really paying any attention to anyone else in the restaurant. Your body felt way too heavy and you hoped a little food would make it better…. it doesn’t.

You make your way to your tree, enjoying the sounds of the birds and the quiet peace of nature. You sigh and, but you’d put that off until tomorrow. You climb up the tree and once at the top you sigh as you watch the clouds, leaning against one of the limbs. The limb was the perfect height to rest your elbows against and you laid your head down against your arms, closing your eyes and feeling the the day's warmth.

You felt him before you saw him and you felt your lunch come back to your throat. You swallowed hard. “Kakashi” you say, knowing he’s behind you. “Little bird” he says and you turn around. “Oh god don’t bring that back it’s been years and I’m not in the ANBU anymore I thought it was left there” he laughs as he hops in front of you, pulling you to his chest, hard.

“My little bird” he whispers into your hair and you take a deep shaky breath before quickly wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his chest. You felt your eyes burn but you refused to cry. “You should know, something as amazing and infamous as the bird fiasco, will never be dropped” he says with a chuckle but his hold on you never lets up.

“A girl can hope” you whisper into his chest and he notices how your voice cracks. He knows it’s not about the bird thing, knows it’s because he didn’t come back, so he keeps holding you and starts to run his fingers through your hair.

When he feels your tense shoulders relax is when his arms around you relaxed a little too. When you pull back you don’t meet his eye, you just turn back to the sunrise, the sun already gone but the sky is still light, turning many shades of pink and orange. “How’s Yukie?” You ask and he lets out a breath “she’s fine. Delivered safely. I caught your last conversation that night so I sent word about the assassins to her father and it’s all handled” you nod and lay your cheek back against your arm on the limb. “Good” you say softly “good”

He stands next to you for a while, watching the sunset. It feels like the hot spring was years ago and you tried desperately to put it from your mind in this moment. You place your palms against the limb you were resting on and used it to hold yourself as you dropped to your butt on the limb you were standing on, then you pushed off it and used the rest of the limbs of the tree to jump to before you land safely on the ground, Kakashi right beside you.

Before he has a chance to say anything or try to explain, maybe he thinks he has nothing to explain since it’s the ninja protocol, maybe he’s waiting for you to explain your eyes, but you don’t care. You don’t feel like being around him right now so you sigh “I don’t know what you have to do tonight” you clear your throat “but I have some things to take care of so I’ll see you around Kakashi” you say and then disappear, leaving him in the middle of the forest at dusk.

You lock your door behind you and then lean against it, sliding to your butt and leaning your head on your knees, sighing in the darkness of your living room.

“This doesn’t look like taking care of something” he teases from your window where he’s perched. You pick up your shoe and throw it at him, not even bothering to move your head from your knees. He catches it with a small smack and a tiny laugh.

You just look at him from your spot against the floor, not hiding your feelings from your face. He saw how hurt you felt, how exhausted you were, how stupid, vulnerable, and alone you feel. He moves from the window and sits beside you.

His voice was soft when he spoke “We need to talk, but I can see how much you don’t want to right now. So if it’s okay with you, I want to hold you” your breath hitches as you look over at him, his eye was soft and you felt your lip quiver as you turned and buried your face in your hands, the tears you fought off now spilling into your palms.

He pulls you into his arms and holds you against his chest, rubbing his hand across your back and running his fingers through your hair gently. “I’m sorry” you whisper as you pull away but he doesn’t let you look away from him, he cups your cheeks and wipes away your tears “I’m sorry. I promise you, i was going to go back for you.” His voice was sincere “Will you let me tell you the story of my week?” he whispers and you feel yourself begin to cry again but he’s holding your face so you can’t look away. His thumbs brush away the new tears as you nod.

You sit, curled up in his lap, as he tells you the sory of him going back to the village. His hands rubbing your back or running across your arms softly. “Since i heard your conversation, i knew about the assasins. After i left you at the hospital knowing youd be okay, I finished the mission. Pakun assisted me and Yukie was actually resourceful even though she was on my back the entire time. When I got to the house to deliver her, there was more waiting. Yukie was safe but I had to use my sharigan” you realize that would have left him bedridden for days. When he was able to travel you were already home.

“I’m sorry” you whisper “i .. i thought” he hums and nods “you thought i saw your eyes and abandoned you” you nod into his chest

“i would never do that to you. If you didnt tell me about your eyes i’m sure you had a good reason” you look up at him and and pull yourself away form him, crossing your legs as you sit in front of him. “My eyes are cursed. It’s not because I dont trust you Kakashi, i trust you more than anyone. More than myself. I just thought if i pretended i didnt have them, if i didn’t use them or tell anyone about them, then maybe i could, i dont know, semi atone for what my ancestors have done. I know it’s stupid but. These eyes have bad karma. I didnt ask for them and i dont want them” he reaches out an cups your cheeks, turning your face so he could look in your eyes.

“Your eyes aren’t cursed or bad karma. They are a tool you get to decide how to use. Your ancestors' sins aren’t on your head. It’s up to you whether to use them or not and I know you always make the right choice” you feel tears well up again but he wipes them as they fall. “Now that that’s all cleared up. Let’s lay down. We can talk about the rest later” before you respond, he’s easily scooping you into his arms and carrying you to your bedroom.

“I don’t want to sleep” you say as he walks into your bedroom and he laughs “but I want to hold you” he says and you feel your cheeks warm as you hide your face in his shoulder “o-okay then I guess I’d like that” he chuckles at your shy voice “you guess?” You laugh as he put you on your bed “yes. I guess” you say with a smirk and he takes off his vest and lays down beside you, pulling you to his chest.

“Your feelings aren’t just a little more solid than that?” He asks and sighs, finally having you in his arms again. You pull back and slide your headband off your head, placing it on your side table. “Isn’t this what we’re talking about later?” You whisper and reach behind his head, untying his headband and placing it beside yours. “Yeah” he says and another small sigh escapes his mouth when you run your fingers through his hair, gently running your nails over his scalp. You lay your head on his chest and cuddle into him, his hand running up at down your back softly “but yes, Kakashi, my feelings are a lot more solid than a ~guess~”

When you wake up you’re alone in your bed and you sigh, a sinking feeling in your stomach but it only lasts a moment. Soon the sounds of someone in your kitchen reaches your ears and you cover your face with your hands, a smile spreading on your face.

“Good morning” he says when you walk into the kitchen. His back was to you as he cooked breakfast. “Smells amazing” you say and he can hear the smile on your lips, it makes his heart race. “Sit. It’s almost done”

You sit at the table, the sunlight from the windows feeling a little too bright. He sets out breakfast but you can tell he’s ready to talk about everything else so you don’t go to eat.

“I-” he holds up a finger and you close your mouth and nod, playing with your fingers as you wait for him. he takes a deep breath “I have so much I want, I need, to say to you, but something happened in the beginning of the mission and I would like you to tell me what” neither of you move to eat yet.

He looks at you expectantly as you try to put your thoughts in order, trying to remember that day months ago “Yes, good to start at the beginning. Well” You take a breath and then it all comes out probably said a little too quickly but he kept up easily.

“I overheard a conversation that wasn’t for me to hear and hurt my own feelings, I got too into my own head, as you know I do a lot. I had to work something through and I treated you less than you deserve, I treated you like we were in the Anbu again.”

“My conversation with Sasuke” he states and you nod, looking down at the table, “yeah. It wasn’t a conversation that I was supposed to hear, it’s not my place and I know that. i went looking for you to see if you were alright and I should have told you sooner but as I said, I am stupid. I over-thought that you don't care about anyone like it was my business in the first place. If you don’t have anyone you care about then that’s fine. That’s your business. But I realized ..” you take a deep breath and meet his eye “I realized that I don't want to stop caring about you just because you don't care about me. That’s why I was such a rollercoaster ” you can see his lips twitching up into a smile under his mask “you care about me?” He asks and you chuckle a little sadly and look down at your breakfast “Kakashi i'm pretty sure i've loved you since that day we talked about Icha Icha over ramen” his eyes widened and you were pretty sure he was blushing under his mask by the way the tops of his ears went pink.

“I thought about telling you before, that time we had ramen before we took her back with us. But I didn’t want to have it be a heavy thing for the month of travel” he nods slowly, you keep your eyes on your food out of habit, you’ve seen under his mask but you still gave him his privacy. “But now. Things are different” you whisper as you finally take a bite.

“So you don’t love me anymore?” He says with a little hint of a joke in his voice and you roll his eyes “I didn’t say that, but you know it’s true, it is different.” he swallows “different how?” he asks and takes off his mask, beginning to eat breakfast and you gasp softly, like this is something you haven’t seen before. A small smile finds your lips as he looks completely at home and comfortable with you.

“I.. I don’t know. But shouldn’t it feel different?” He chuckles softly “I don’t feel any different. I still love you just the same” the bite you were going to take hangs frozen in the air as you look at him. He’s looking down at his food, stirring it a little to get it to cool down faster, a sparkle in his eye when it flicks up to meet yours.

“You…” you begin but stop when he speaks again “All I can think about is that first morning. holding you in my arms when we were together. The way your shampoo smells. The way you looked at me in the light from the sunrise. But if I’m being completely honest, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that first day at Ichiraku”

Your cheeks feel warm as ever, a shocked but sweet smile on your lips “that’s.. surprising” you say with a small chuckle “why’s that?” He asks and reaches up to take off his mask.

“I don’t know. I guess I just got it into my head that my feelings were one sided” you say softly, your cheeks blushing when you see his handsome face.

“Don’t sell yourself short y/n. You’re an amazing ninja, incredibly smart, funny, wise, soft, not to mention incredibly beautiful. I’d be a stupid man if I didn’t see that. If I didn’t return your feelings.

You feel your eyes sting for a moment but you blink away the tears “I… thank you Kakashi” you say with warm cheeks and a shy smile.

You don’t talk the rest of breakfast, just share little smiles and soft laughs. Your heart felt light and joyous as you shared breakfast and love with the man at your table.

You both felt it at the same time, the shift in the air and you both look to your door as someone knocks. Kakashi pulls his mask up as you answer the door, him staying at your table in the background. “The Hokage would like to see you both.” the ANBU said and then disappeared into the ground once you nodded.

“And here I thought I’d get a couple days off” you mumble with a sigh as you help him clean off your table “I’ll do the dishes later don’t worry about it” you say and he nods, pulling you into his arms. “So” he says with a lilt in his voice “so?” You ask and pull back to look up in his eye. He doesn’t say anything, just looks back at you with a spark in his eye and you know exactly what he’s saying. You love each other. You fixed the problems. There’s nothing holding you apart anymore.

You reach up and remove the mask, cupping his cheek “I love you Kakashi” you whisper and he smiles pressing his forehead to yours “I love you” he says and then finally presses his lips to yours.

#naruto kakashi #kakashi hakate x y/n #kakashi x you #kakashi imagines #kakashi x reader #kakashi x y/n #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake x you #naruto fanfiction

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franzis-frantic-thoughts · 4 years ago

Text

Ding Dong the Witch is Dead

“We don’t have any champagne flutes, so I grabbed some mugs from the break room,” Sasha said as she returned to the Archive. She placed the mismatched cups down on Tim’s desk, watching him undo the wire around the cork.

“I don’t mind slumming it,” Tim grinned cheerfully, “I wouldn’t even mind just passing round the bottle, but I highly doubt the boss-man would approve,” he added, just as the door to Jon’s private office opened behind them.

“You highly doubt the boss-man would approve of what, precisely?” Jon asked, glossing over the whole ‘boss-man’ issue with an air of fondly exasperated defeat, as he stepped into the Assistants’ open floor space. He raised an eyebrow as the champagne cork left the bottle with a loud ‘pop’ and flew in a high arc over the desks. “Watch the statements!” Jon panicked, lurching forwards to rescue a stack of papers from Tim’s desk. “Also isn’t it a little early for alcohol? It’s barely 5 pm!”

“Nevermind those, they’ve all recorded digitally just fine, and nevermind that, it’s never too early for champagne,” Tim replied with a carefree shrug, pouring some into the four mugs, “And in any case. We’re celebrating. It’s a joyous day!” he said, pushing the Grumpy Cat mug into Jon’s hand. The one with orange and pink dots went to Sasha, a beige cable-knit design one was passed across the desks to Martin and the rainbow striped mug stayed with Tim.

“We- we are?” Martin asked, staring down at his drink and obviously as confused as Jon felt, “It is?”

“Indeed it is, Martin my dear friend,” Tim replied solemnly, talking over Jon’s stuttered objections to alcohol on Institute property and on a weeknight. “For today, on this day, some years ago, but by far not enough bloody years ago, the world was rid of a terrible evil.”

Jon’s brows pulled together. He was not entirely sure he liked where this was going. Tim was being far, far too serious for this to actually be meant seriously. He dreaded what was going to come next.

“So a celebration is in order,” Tim continued, raising his mug to each of them in turn, still with that mock-serious expression on his face, before it split into a wide grin. “Let the joyous news be spread, the wicked witch at last is dead! Happy Fuck-Thatcher-Day, guys!” Tim cheered and knocked back his half filled mug of champagne before refilling it immediately.

Giggling softly at Tim’s enthusiasm and the stunned looks on Martin and Jon’s faces, Sasha toasted them as well and took a sip. Tim hadn’t skimped on the choice of bottle.

“Ah… isn’t… isn’t that sort of in bad taste, maybe?” Martin asked, uncertainty. He didn’t want any of them to get into trouble over this. Elias seemed the Tory type and what if he found out?

Before Tim could reply to this, however, Jon spoke up. “It really isn’t,” he said dryly, “I’ll drink to that.” he nodded and did just that.

“I knew you would see sense, Jon,” Tim said, wrapping an arm around the shorter man’s shoulders and shaking him fondly. He clinked their mugs together. “I just wish you could have met her, though. Seeing a queer little eldritch mess like you might have finished her off sooner. You could have gotten that priest involved, you know the one?”

Jon snorted into his mug, having been just about to take a sip, and felt the champagne’s bubbles in his nose. He coughed awkwardly, but had to grin. “Statement of Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, concerning the exorcism led by Father Edwin Burroughs and subsequent death of a homophobic, aporophobic demon. Statement begins. Good riddance. Statement ends.”

Despite the champagne prickling in his nose, Jon delivered his small monologue in the perfectly flat tone he used for all his recordings. Sasha’s giggles turned into a full laughter which Martin and Tim joined in. Jon felt his face grow warm, not just from the champagne, but from the shared joy between them. They may be getting stalked by supernatural worms and Martin may have been driven to live in the Archives for his own safety and Sasha may have recently committed a sort-of murder, but right here, right now, they could enjoy a joke and a drink together.

On AO3

#tma #fan fic #ficlet #the magnus archives #timothy stoker #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #sasha james #franzis thoughts

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queenbirbs · 4 years ago

Text

waiting for rain | Ethan x MC

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC

Warnings: language

Word count: 2,786

Summary: After the funeral, Sloane catches a ride. Post chapter 11.

------

It’s a beautiful day.

The last week has been nothing but blue skies and balmy temperatures, with autumn peeking its head around the corner. The city is lovely anytime of year, but Boston thrives in the fall. The Common and adjacent gardens come alive in a spray of colors as the leaves change, the canopy dipped in orange and yellow and red.

It feels wrong, then, that the day is so nice and bright as they trudge along the rows of graves and back towards Bryce’s car. Glancing over her shoulder, Sloane frowns at the swath of black as Danny’s family gathers around the grave to watch the interment. Their labored breathing and soft cries carry over the open lawn and down to the road.

“What a shitty fucking day.” Jackie kicks at a pile of loose gravel along the pavement with her heel.

“At least the rain held off,” Sienna pipes up from where she’s slumped against the car. Clenched in her shaking hand is a gladiolus that Danny’s sister gave her from the casket spray. Noticing Sloane’s attention on the flower, Sienna traces a finger along the white petals with a wobbly smile. “I’m going to press it in my copy of The Secret of Ninradell.”

“Nerd,” Jackie mutters, coaxing a tremulous chuckle from Sienna.

Beside them, the doors unlock with a droning whir. The three of them pile into the back; Elijah and Bryce’s voices drift down as they approach.

“You know, all those parking tickets you keep getting are starting to make a lot more sense now.”

“These hands are for performing surgical miracles, not parallel parking on an incline.”

“A kid with a learner’s permit could parallel park this, dude. Your car is the Chevrolet equivalent of a sardine can.”

“We’re well aware of that,” Jackie chimes in from the center seat. “So can you two hurry it up?”

As Bryce helps Elijah into the passenger seat, Sloane catches sight of Ethan’s car tucked in along the other side of the access road. She caught a brief glance of him at the graveside service, but he disappeared into the crowd of mourners soon after her impromptu eulogy. The sun’s reflection on his windshield prevents her from seeing if he’s even inside. But then, a few cars down, Harper gives a little goodbye wave towards his car as she and Aurora reach her own vehicle.

Sloane throws open the door. Jackie frowns and reaches out for her as she slides out.

“Hey, what are you--”

“I’m going to catch a ride with Dr. Ramsey.” At the wave of worried expressions she receives, Sloane sighs. “I’m okay. I promise. You guys shouldn’t… I’ll see you at home.”

With that pithy attempt at reassurance, she shuts the door and crosses over to the S-Class. The driver’s side window rolls down before she reaches it, revealing Ethan in his customary black suit. His striking blue eyes are tinged red -- a sight Sloane has become accustomed to over the last week when catching herself in the bathroom mirror.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hello,” he returns. He glances down her figure, as if cataloging something, and then back up to meet her eyes. “Come on, then.”

“Thanks.”

She crosses to the passenger side and settles into the seat, avoiding his curious gaze by feigning a struggle with the seatbelt. Thankfully, he drops whatever question is plaguing him and starts the engine. Within a few minutes, they’re cruising south down the highway. The classical station finishes its latest piece and the suave-voiced host segways into a round of commercials. When the local news spot starts, both of them reach for the volume button, their fingers bumping clumsily. Ethan reaches it first and turns off the radio, then reaches down to capture Sloane’s hand with his. He links their fingers and squeezes, once, then again, before resting their clasped hands against the leather armrest. His thumb makes easy, gentle strokes along her skin.

Sloane eases back into her seat. The dull roar of the road isn’t enough to fill the aching silence inside her head. It makes her think of being back in that tented room, all alone, waiting to die.

“The service was lovely, as was your eulogy.”

“Sienna should’ve gotten to speak. She -- those were her words, all she could bear to write, but she asked… well, begged me at the last minute to say them for her.”

“That was kind of you to do.”

Her eyes clench tight at his praise. She focuses on the measured sweeps of his thumb, but all the bitterness in her chest keeps building and building until it bursts free.

“It should’ve been raining. Why was it… why did it have to be so sunny today? It should’ve rained. He deserved that much, at least. He was one of the only staff on my side when Landry was trying to sabotage me. He didn’t need proof or need to hear my friends vouch for me. He just believed me, straight up. And he was so sweet, and so kind, and so funny and now he’s dead, and I know we took Lasagna’s oath to not play God, but if I could, I would bring back Travis just to kill him for all the hurt he caused, and I know that goes against every--”

“Hey.” Ethan glances up from the road and over to meet her watery gaze. “It’s all right. You’re allowed to feel angry, and hurt.”

“I know,” she says, but it still feels dirty, somehow, to agree. She survived, didn’t she? Why should she get the privilege to fall apart at the seams when two people are dead and buried six feet under?

She keeps quiet for the rest of the drive. Unfortunately, it’s a rather short one, what with the cemetery being only twenty minutes north of the city. All too soon, they’re crossing the Tobin Bridge. The city skyline crowds the horizon, stacks of gray and glass forking up into the cloudless sky. Ethan takes the wide curve of an exit that crosses the Charles River and into the tunnel, down below the blue blood streets of Boston. As he prepares to merge over to take them towards her apartment, she squeezes his hand to grab his attention.

“Can I…?” she trails off, regretting how weak the request sounds. She bites back a relieved sigh when he pulls his focus away from the side mirror and over to her.

“Of course.”

They make their way through the ever-present downtown congestion before he turns down a side street and into his building’s garage. Neither speak as they exit the car. His hand finds hers once more as they step into the elevator. Jenner greets them at the door with her favorite stuffed duck, insisting on meeting her quota of belly rubs before allowing them entrance.

“Would you like a drink?” Ethan asks as he steps over the sprawled form of his dog with practiced ease.

“Yes, please.”

After a few more pats, Sloane wanders over into the kitchen. Ethan’s suit jacket lays slung across the island, a more telling sign of his mental state than anything visible on his face. His tie joins the pile as he pours them both several fingers of scotch. She takes the tumbler and knocks it back, ignoring the fierce burn at the back of her throat; she hands it back for a refill.

“Fine,” he sighs, “but this isn’t a jello shot at some tiki bar in Panama City Beach.”

“I wouldn’t know, seeing as I spent my spring breaks waiting tables,” she mutters against the rim of her glass, taking a small sip at his behest.

“I hated every second of it, if it’s any consolation.”

The murmured confession draws her up short.

“Wait -- you were a PCB spring-breaker? You? The man who can’t name a single artist on the top forty hits? The person whose idea of a good time is reading the green journal and annotating the margins with all the mistakes?”

“I don’t see how knowledge of Harry Mars’s discography would increase my enjoyment in life.”

Sloane’s face breaks into a grin at the name faux pas, prompting a scowl from him. “What? You said it yourself that I don’t know--”

“No, no, ignore me. Go on.” She rests her hip against the counter. “Please tell me about how you wound up in Florida for spring break.”

“It was Tobias’s idea, actually. He told me we were going to a medical conference in Atlanta. It wasn’t until we passed through Atlanta and he showed no sign of stopping that he told me where we were actually going. By that point, it was far too late to request he turn around. I was, in effect, doomed.”

“Doomed to spend a week at the beach. Poor you.” Rolling her eyes, she knocks her elbow into his side. “Did you at least have some fun?”

“I did. Well, after I went into a store and bought some more... appropriate clothing. Everything in my bag was pressed khakis and polos.”

Her mind immediately conjures up a younger Ethan, wearing board shorts and flip flops in whatever searing color the local beach shop sold.

“There has to be pictures, right? I’ve met Tobias, he’s too much of a snake not to have snapped a photo or two.”

“I’m sure he does,” Ethan agrees. “For blackmail purposes, of course.”

“And here I was hoping that our time in Miami was your most memorable trip to the Sunshine State.”

“It was.” The weak little smirk she wears disappears, folding under the intense scrutiny of his gaze as it rakes across her. “Why did you ride back with me?” he asks.

“Because Bryce’s car is ‘the Chevrolet equivalent to a sardine can,’ according to Elijah.”

He doesn’t acknowledge her lame attempt at brushing aside the question. When the silence grows too long between them, Sloane drags in a shaky breath and caves. “Because being around them, having them dote on me and worry about me, it’s… suffocating. And not because I don’t love them, or appreciate them, but I don’t… I don’t see the point. They should be able to grieve without me burdening them.”

“Sloane.” The way he says her name with all the care in the world drives that guilt deeper. She wants to shrug away his hold on her as he wraps his arms around her shoulders, but she doesn’t. She sinks into his embrace, breathing in the scent of his cologne, feeling the thud of his heart against her cheek. “You are not a burden.”

“Hearing that and knowing that are two different things,” she points out.

“Then I’ll repeat it a thousand more times until you get it through your thick head.”

“I don’t know what to do. I’m sad, and hurt, and angry about Danny. He didn’t deserve what happened to him, and neither did Bobby. And Rafael, he almost died, and-- and I almost died. And I’m sad, and hurt, and angry about that. But what gives me the right to feel that way, when I got to live, and they didn’t? Danny, he… he begged Travis to let us go, and all I did was stand there. I fucking stood there and let him kill my friend.”

She doesn’t notice the tears on her face, not until Ethan catches them and wipes them away. “And even after you came in, even after I was wheeled out and got to see Kyra, even after I was discharged, there’s been this crushing weight on my chest. I even wrote goodbye letters on my phone, but I can’t bring myself to delete them. Because what if we’re wrong? It’s like… like what if my body suddenly rejects the antidote and I’m back in that bubble? Like I’m going to wake up and be back in that room, as if this is all a last-ditch effort my brain has conjured up to help me cope with dying.”

Ethan makes a pained noise in the back of his throat. Gathering her impossibly closer, he presses his lips to her hair.

“This is real. You’re okay. You’re safe, Sloane. This is real.”

“But I don’t want it to be. I want it to all be some sick dream. They wouldn’t’ve even been there if it weren’t for me. If I hadn’t stolen the senator from Mass Kenmore, Danny and Bobby would still be alive. I just… I want to go back. I want to order them all out of that room before Travis ever gets his hand on that canister. If I could trade places with them, we wouldn’t be burying our friends.”

“You’re wrong,” he tells her. “If you were the only one in that room, we’d be burying you. And after coming close to such a thing, it isn’t a reality I’m ever willing to face.”

Sloane shakes her head as the tears come faster and faster, her body trembling against his. She feels as if she’s drowning, but her head’s above water.

“The responsibility for what happened lies solely with Travis,” he tries to assure her. “He’s the one who pulled the trigger. He’s the one who was determined to get his revenge, no matter who got caught in the crossfire. He admitted as much to me in his last moments without an ounce of regret.”

“Ethan, I…” her throat closes around the rest of her plea, but somehow, he hears the words.

His arms loop around her waist, holding her up as her knees buckle under the sudden weight of her grief. His words become nothing more than soft murmurings as he picks her up and carries her off down the hall.

In his bedroom, he sets her down on the bed. Kneeling before her, he picks up one foot and then the next, unbuckling the strappy heels she wears. Sloane leans forward and strokes against the grain of his stubble; she drags in a steadying breath when he leans into her touch. She reaches down for the hem of her dress, but he beats her to it. Raising her arms instead, she lets him slide the dark fabric over her head. He adds his own clothing to the floor, then joins her in his bed, his naked skin warm against hers.

Under the covers, Ethan tucks her there against his chest. Her eyes flutter closed at the sensation of his fingers tracing along her bare skin. It reminds her of that last morning they shared together, after the trial. The heartache now is different, vicious in that way only death can be. Sloane burrows closer, wishing she could bottle this feeling of safety and drink from it on the darker days ahead.

“Yours was the longest,” she admits, her voice sounding small in the quiet room.

“Hmm?” he murmurs.

“Your letter.”

The line of him stiffens, his hand stilling its movement.

“Hand me your phone.”

She rolls over and digs through the pile of their clothing, retrieving her phone from the pocket of her dress and handing it off to him. He holds it between them so she can watch as he navigates to her notepad app. The letters are all there, just as she said, in alphabetical order. She doesn’t miss how his thumb hovers above Naveen’s.

“I asked him to look after you,” she explains, biting her lip against the rush of emotion at knowing the words hidden beneath the names.

“When did you write these?”

Ethan’s eyes move from the screen and over to hers, tears collecting in the cradle of his lower lid. Her gaze never waves from his as she answers.

“After you took Raf away. It… became real, after that. Not that it wasn’t real before, with Danny, but to see him fall into a coma right next to me was a wake-up call. I didn’t want that to happen to me. Not without being able to say goodbye to the people I loved.”

Leaning across, he kisses her temple, and then her cheek, and then her lips. Then, with a few, quick taps, he deletes the letters and returns her phone.

“Thank you,” he whispers. At her raised brow, he doubles down. “Not for-- that was for you. I’m saying thank you because you listened to me.”

She snuggles close once more when he curls his arm around her and flashes him a curious smile.

“Go on.”

“You didn’t give up,” he tells her, his voice gone thick with emotion.

Between the sheets, her hand finds his.

“You didn’t give up, either,” she reminds him.

“On you?” he hums, pulling their linked hands towards himself to press a kiss to her fingers. “Never.”

------

Author notes and what-have-yous:

So, I learned that only eleven percent of medical schools still recite the Hippocratic oath verbatim, and about thirty-three percent use Lasagna’s modern oath (which is why I included it instead).This is coming from a few articles I read, all seemingly based in the U.S., so it may not pertain to every school.

The ‘blue blood streets of Boston’ is pulled directly from a Bob Seger song, though there is a historical connotation behind it.

The green journal is another name for the American Journal of Medicine.

#open heart fic #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #Kaila writes things #f: waiting for rain

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jiangchengrights · 4 years ago

Text

i’d always been rigid before you

also available on ao3

The world around Wei Ying is a delightful shade of, of, fuck, what was it all the pretentious photography majors have told her? The one that’s all hazy orange and blurred edges. That makes everything feel old and fragile and romantic. The one Wei Ying likes best. It’s not black and white or the one on, on, dague-daguerreotype, but a-

“A calotype,” Wei Ying mumbles to herself, rubbing at her eyes as she stares at the ceiling from her spot on the ground. The world is only spinning a little bit, “Sepia!”

“Shut up, Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng throws at her, lacking all the heat it normally carries. Probably because he’s also fairly drunk. Makes him softer, like a cat. Wei Ying giggles to herself and reaches a hand out, wrapping warm fingers around Jiang Cheng’s ankle, pleased when he lets it rest there, “Did you order your food or not?”

“Oh!” she gasps, using his leg as support to claw her way up and into a sitting position, squinting one eye shut so she can focus on the tiny little words that light up her screen. Why were her letters so small? Why didn’t she set them to be big, like when she reset Jiang Fengimen’s for him? Absolute fool, she thinks to herself as she navigates the doordash app, hoping beyond hope that the app doesn’t crash while she’s ordering because she does not have the mental capacity to deal with that right now, “Yes!”

“Good, because if my order gets here before yours, I’m not sharing my fries with you,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, sounding absolutely put upon and yet, Wei Ying thinks smugly to herself, he doesn’t shake her off his leg. She counts that as a win.

“But didi,” she languishes, flopping across his feet dramatically, laughing when he nudges her just on the side of a kick, “I fully plan to share my pancakes with you!”

“I don’t want your pancakes, Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, “And you still can’t have my fries.”

She pouts and pouts and whines at the ceiling but gets no further response from Jiang Cheng besides a few grumbles and a grunted out question of horror or comedy? Her cheer of horror! is accepted and her glass is absolutely not refilled because obviously Jiang Cheng hates her. And of course his food does in fact get there first (probably because he’d ordered it a solid twenty minutes before she had even started looking at the iHop online menu but that is neither here nor there) but she does manage to steal an entire handful of fries from him and a sip of his coke because he loves her even if he pretends he doesn’t. Another victory.

She turns her pout towards her phone now, opening the doordash app to message her driver. She wants an ETA on her phone but she’s not willing to risk her food being spit on and she is very grateful that someone out there is willing to brave the cold to bring pancakes directly to her door so instead she opts for a completely casual and friendly, i love you ❤️

She doesn’t really expect a response, figures the doordash driver is busy or unwilling to talk or (hopefully) driving but her phone dings with the standard Hi, this is DoorDash connecting you to your Dasher for updates about your order. And then, I love you too.

She reads the message four times, mouthing the words to her screen with a heavy tongue before she throws her head back to laugh, feeling light and fuzzy because this stranger is playing along with her. She clicks back to her app to check the name of her driver and spends ten minutes tracing the letters on her screen that spell out Hanguang Jun.

Her food arrives with a perfunctory knock and she half stumbles her way to the door, fairly certain the floor is moving erratically beneath her just to slow her down. Even though she yells, “I’m coming, I’m coming, hold on!” (words nearly unintelligible with the way they stumble and slur out of her mouth) and she throws the door open with all her might, she doesn’t make it in time to see her dasher. She thinks she catches a glimpse of long shiny black hair, but really that could be a shadow.

She leaves a five star review on the dasher anyways, for being lovely.

The next day she slides into her seat in her criminology class, right at the front, 8AM sharp (8:08). The front row of class is, generally, not her favorite spot, especially in big auditoriums like this. She’d rather be somewhere in the upper middle, where she could sink low if she needed to but still be heard if she has questions or comments. Especially, especially, when she is hungover enough that her ice coffee does nothing to curb the throbbing in her head.

But.

But Lan Zhan likes to sit in the front row and Wei Ying likes to sit next to Lan Zhan. So. So she will suffer through her Professor’s half glare as she stumbles in late and slides into the (thankfully) empty seat next to her. Lan Zhan doesn’t bother looking at her, too busy jotting down little notes in her journal, watching the screen as the professor discusses a future class assignment. Wei Ying sets her drink down carefully and then continues to messily rifle through her bag in search of a scrap of paper and anything to write with and comes up remarkably short.

A carefully sharpened pencil and a neat, small, stack of notebook paper are pushed her way, even as Lan Zhan continues to look forward. It’s so small and stupid but it has Wei Ying grinning like a fool, leaning close enough into Lan Zhan’s shoulder to whisper, thank you, lan zhan, my hero. She’s fairly certain Lan Zhan mostly just tolerates her, but god, tolerates her in the nicest way possible.

She turns back around and listens for the rest of class. By “listen” she means she is secretly recording the lecture on her phone, which she will absolutely listen to later, and maintains half attention while also drawing a bunny on one of the sheets Lan Zhan gave her. She’s pretty certain bunnies are Lan Zhan’s favorite and so she is ever perfecting the art of drawing them; realistically, cartoon-esque, blocky orbs that mostly just look funny to Wei Ying herself, but in all ways she practices. This one looks pretty good, she decides halfway through class, and so she will give it to Lan Zhan when their professor finally stops talking.

(It crosses her mind that Lan Zhan might not appreciate the waste of her own paper but she hopes the cuteness of the bunny will make up for that)

She’s just adding the finishing touches to the piece when the professor wraps up class, the music of end of class clatter lighting up the room; laptops and notebooks being shut, zipped away safely in backpacks. Wei Ying has no such noise, being that none of the supplies on her desk are her own besides her mostly empty coffee cup. She turns to Lan Zhan without a second thought, tapping lightly on her shoulder, and smiling what her sister calls her “winning smile” (Jiang Cheng refers to it as her “shit eating grin” and that is why he is not her favorite sister. Although, he still holds the title for her favorite brother. Don’t tell him that) as Lan Zhan tilts her head gracefully in her direction.

“For you!” she half shouts, giddy like a small child, pressing the drawing into Lan Zhan’s notebook.

“Me?” Lan Zhan questions, brows furrowing just the slightest amount, enough for Wei Ying to have to fight the urge to reach out and smooth the lines that crinkle there. Her eyes widen, though, when she looks down and sees the bunny and god, oh my god, her lips pull up on one side in what is definitely a Lan-Zhan-smile. She is smiling and all because of Wei Ying.

“Bunny,” is all she says, sounding reverent as her fingers reach out to stroke the page, as if it might carry any of the real softness of rabbit fur.

This is the best day of Wei Ying’s life.

“I thought you liked them!” Wei Ying shouts, oblivious of the students who are trying to filter out of their seats around them. She leans to the side, so that her forehead touches Lan Zhan’s shoulder, just enough pressure to really feel each other and says, “Thank you for always taking care of me, Lan Zhan!”

Lan Zhan is stiff beneath her, but she nods anyways and then reaches out to carefully fold around the rabbit and place it safely in her notebook, humming as she does. She’s keeping it. When Wei Ying lifts her head off the girl’s shoulder, Lan Zhan fully turns to look at her, eyes scrutinizing everything from Wei Ying’s twisted ponytail to the bags under her eyes, “I am surprised Wei Ying is here today.”

“What!” Wei Ying squawks, “This is my favorite class!” this is my lan-zhan-class!

“Mn,” Lan Zhan nods, and then purses her lips when she catches sight of the coffee sweating on the corner of Wei Ying’s desk, “Wei Ying should drink more water.”

“Ahh, there you go again!” Wei Ying laughs, finally hefting her bag onto her shoulder and moving to stand up, “Always trying to take care of me!”

The tips of Lan Zhan’s ears turn tomato red and she doesn’t respond to that comment, so Wei Ying figures Lan Zhan’s tolerance for her up for the day. Ah, well, she had a good run today! Enough to hold her off until Wednesday (that is, unless she sees Lan Zhan walking around on campus between now and then. She’s never had very good self-control around Lan Zhan).

“I’ll see you on Wednesday, Lan Zhan!” she calls over her shoulder as she bounces her way out of the class. She’ll draw a better bunny on Wednesday, she’s sure, one good enough to make Lan Zhan look at her twice. She will.

She’s halfway through her jog on Tuesday when Wen Qing calls her. She answers the phone without bothering to stop running, much to the distaste of Wen Qing, who has to listen to her pant.

“We’re drinking tonight,” is how Wen Qing starts this conversation.

“Wow, hello to you too,” Wei Ying says through heavy breathes, just to be an asshole, “I’m good today, how are you?”

“I’m fucking shitty, why else would I be calling you up?” Wen Qing snaps, as though she doesn’t call Wei Ying minimum three times a week on top of lunch dates every Thursday.

“What happened?” Wei Ying asks, rounding the corner of the park and heading in a straight line towards her apartment complex.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Wen Qing says, sounding remarkably impatient for someone who started this phone call. And with Wei Wuxian of all people.

“Ah,” Wei Ying nods to herself, “So Mianmian then.”

“I didn’t say that!” Wen Qing snaps.

“Didn’t have to,” Wei Ying reminds her, coming to the flight of stairs that lead to her apartment, “I know of all your woes, Qing-jie.”

“You don’t know shit,” she hears from multiple angles.

“Are you already-” she begins asking, but cuts herself off when she reaches the top of the stairs and sees Wen Qing standing angrily outside her door, two bottles of Vodka in hand, “Alright then.”

“Just open the door, Wei Wuxian,” Wen Qing demands, stepping aside as Wei Ying comes closer, “I’m tired of holding these fucking bottles.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Wei Ying laughs, unlocking the door, “Make yourself comfortable.”

“You know I will.”

The world is once again hazy, less nice this time because her stomach still feels a little squirmy from the last hangover. She misses her recovery time from high school (read: no hangovers ever), now she’s just an old lady who can only drink, like, once a week. A tragedy.

Yet, here she is, on the floor once again because she seems to always end up on the floor when she’s drunk. It’s a nice spot; safe and big, big enough to spread her long limbs out wide.

“I want pancakes,” she says to the ceiling fan, expecting no response.

Instead she gets, “You already ordered your fucking pancakes, it’s not my fault you always take forever to actually order.”

“But Qing-jie!” she whines, rolling on her side to give Wen Qing her puppy dog eyes, “You got your food so quick and I’m still waiting.”

“Again, not my fault,” Wen Qing snaps before shoving an ungodly amount of burrito into her mouth, “Just message your driver to see where they’re at.”

“Oh yeah!!” she whips out her phone so fast it goes flying across the room and she has to crawl on her belly like a snake to get it. Her driver’s name is weird, Hanguang Jun, familiar even though it’s strange and... “It’s my driver from last Sunday!”

“Okay?” Wen Qing says around her burrito, rolling her eyes when Wei Ying waves her off.

u r my soulmate, she sends with zero hesitation, grinning when her phone buzzes almost immediately.

Hi, this is DoorDash connecting you to your Dasher for updates about your order. It says, yet again, and then, Really.

So dry, so cute! Wei Ying doesn’t know this person but she likes them already. The ability to play into her antics is not one possessed by everyone, so she will value it when she finds it, yes 😳

I am glad to know that, Hanguang Jun replies in an instant.

Wei Ying wants to play it really cool and really fun but she’s also absolutely starving and so she sends, what’s going on over there

A long line.

Then, because she decides she wants to go back to being fun she types out, its okay just hold on i cant wait to see u

I cannot wait to see you either.

And then Wei Ying just about dies and stays that way, arm thrown over her eyes and groaning like a fool on the vaguely dirty carpet of her apartment until she notices Wen Qing trying to fill her cup once again.

“Wen Qing, don’t drink all the Vodka!” she shouts right as there is a knock on the door and she jumps up, hoping if she hustles to the door she can see the illustrious Hanguang Jun this time. It’s a no-go, but she does find her food placed neatly on her doorstep with a small handwritten note that says For my soulmate.

So five stars once again.

She slides into her seat somehow even more haggard than on Monday and barely has time to look at Lan Zhan, sitting prim in her seat, hair straight and long, with a powder blue sweater over a white dress shirt and a short black skirt to match, long legs covered by black tights, before the other girl thrusts a huge water bottle her way.

“Drink,” Lan Zhan says by way of greeting, staring Wei Ying down until she hesitantly opens the bottle and takes a sip, smiling unsure when she pulls away.

“Lan Zhan?” she asks, screwing the cap back on slowly.

“Water is good for Wei Ying,” she states, turning away. Wei Ying stares at her for a second more and then nods, pulling out her now-found notebook with a smile.

“It’s almost like you care about me, Lan Zhan,” She whispers, smirking when she sees Lan Zhan’s fingers tighten around her pencil.

Lan Zhan doesn’t dignify that with a response, so she leaves it alone for now, tuning back to her own page to maybe take notes this class. Maybe.

Lan Zhan follows her out of class that day, lets Wei Ying latch onto her arm like a fool and chatter away as they mill about the crowds of other undergrad students. She hmms and mms at all the right moments and sometimes, very rarely but sometimes, she seems to cling back to Wei Ying as much as Wei Ying clings to her.

Wei Ying is a little in love.

Before she can do something stupid, like say that, Lan Zhan turns, and meets the eyes of Nie Mingjue, who looks smug and stern as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. Lan Zhan’s eyes widen and she hastens to disentangle herself from Wei Ying’s grasp, taking a side step away.

“Hey isn’t that your brother’s best friend?” Wei Ying asks, but by the time she looks up Lan Zhan is gone, lost in the throng of people.

Wei Ying stands alone in the quad center as people mill around her, feeling lost and a little hurt by the sudden vanish of her friend, meeting Nie Mingjue’s pitying gaze only once before she hustles along to the buses.

Lan Zhan had done this in high school, too. Had run away from Wei Ying anytime someone significant came into view of them. Had shoved Wei Ying off and called her shameless and walked away from her without ever turning around. Wei Ying remembers a lot of Lan Zhan’s back, always walking away, always a little out of reach.

That was okay though, they were kids, still working through everything. Wei Ying always assumed it was just hormones or Lan Zhan working through her own inner gay crisis combined with Wei Ying’s own puberty induced irritatingness. She assumed that would stop now; they were adults and Lan Zhan had really come into her own and Wei Ying had calmed down ever so slightly. What did it matter if her brother saw her with Wei Ying? What could it hurt?

Just Wei Ying, it turns out. It could hurt Wei Ying.

Wei Ying spends maybe, slightly, too much money on food delivery. It’s just, she always wants food when she’s drunk and she’s very against drinking and driving and she never has the forethought to get food before she starts drinking so here she is.

Your driver is on their way! The app notifies her and only then does she remember to check who is picking the food up for her, squealing when she sees the name.

Hanguang jun!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hi, this is DoorDash connecting you to your Dasher for updates about your order. She gets and then, Yes.

its u again!!!

Hanguang Jun: It is me.

Wei Ying: u r the love of my life

Hanguang Jun: I thought I was your soulmate?

Wei Ying: r u saying u cant be both 🥺

Hanguang Jun: I can be whatever you need.

That has Wei Ying blushing from head to toe in her thankfully empty apartment. She has to take a moment to breathe before she can reply with, ah so smooth hanguang jun

There is a brief pause, one that has Wei Ying waiting, staring at her phone with a too cheesy smile on her face, Mn. For you.

She squeals in excitement so loud she almost misses the knock on the door. It's distracting enough to slow her down, so still no sight of Hanguang Jun tonight. Their chat disconnects but it’s okay, there will be a next time.

(Wei Ying hopes there will be a next time).

Rate your dasher: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Wei Ying’s criminology class is not a small class. Small classes have order and structure; you get to know your fellow classmates and an informal seating chart begins to appear usually after the second week of class. This one, however, is set in a wide auditorium that fills with too many students to even know any of them, who always seem to be moving around, always in new spots. Which is why it continually surprises Wei Ying that her spot is always empty and waiting for her when she stumbles in ten minutes late. She voices this out loud only to receive an eye roll from Lan Zhan.

“It is Wei Ying’s spot,” is all she says, turning forward once again. And it is her spot but that’s not the point of Wei Ying’s argument, now is it?

“Hmph,” she sighs to herself, digging around in her bag until she finds the two bunny pens she had purchased this weekend on a whim at some novelty store. They’re both silicone smooth, with rounded bunny heads on the end and ears that extend maybe a bit too far. She pushes the black one onto Lan Zhan’s desk and whispers, “That one is for you.”

“For...me?” Lan Zhan asks, lips parting as she looks down at the pen in her hand and then back up at Wei Ying, the hint of a smile in her cheeks.

“Of course! You’re my favorite Lan Zhan, who else would I buy a pen for?” she says back, feeling utterly pleased with herself to have gained such a positive reaction, wiggling closer in her seat to press her arm against Lan Zhan, “You’re my favorite.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan calls, not quite a whisper, but soft and intense, one of her hands reaching out to grab at Wei Ying’s own. Wei Ying is delighted to find the other girl has rough calluses on the tips of her fingers that scrape gently against her knuckles, “Thank you.”

“Lan Zhan, ah, it’s no big deal, really,” she whispers, suddenly shy, using her free hand to rub at the back of her neck, “I was just thinking about you, you know?”

Lan Zhan stares at her for just a beat too long, before she pulls away entirely. Before Wei Ying can panic, though, she neatly puts her original pen away and picks up the bunny pen, smiling down at her notebook as she writes her notes, trying to hide the biggest smile Wei Ying has ever seen from the other girl.

She’s so warm next to Wei Ying and she never looks like she even considers switching away from the bunny pen even though it's surely not as nice as the gel one she’d been using before. When the professor dismisses them a mere minute and a half before their class is scheduled to end, Wei Ying finds herself in a panic, desperate not to let Lan Zhan slip away just yet.

“Hey,” she says, one hand reaching out lightning fast to grasp Lan Zhan’s elbow, “Do you want to get coffee?”

Lan Zhan frowns, goes to open her mouth but doesn’t manage to get a single sound out before Wei Ying half shouts, “Tea! Tea! I know you like tea instead of coffee, let’s get tea, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan stares at her long enough that Wei Ying begins to squirm in her seat, words on the tip of her tongue to take it all back, rescind her existence entirely when Lan Zhan asks, “Wei Ying...knows I like tea?”

“Well, yes,” Wei Ying nods, hoping this doesn’t make her seem like she’s been paying too much attention to Lan Zhan, “It’s just, you never bring coffee to class, always tea. So, I just, like, assumed. But, tea?”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan says, “Let’s get tea.”

So they get tea in what is the best and most excruciating forty five minutes of Wei Ying’s entire life. Lan Zhan sits across from her with the poise and beauty of a marble statue, sharp lines carved from stone only to be softened when she laughs at Wei Ying’s silliness. She steeps jasmine tea in a teacup and bats it around with a spoon, slow, careful, sure enough in her practiced movements that Wei Ying finds herself enraptured, watching those fingers with a single minded focus. She’s never been enraptured by tea before. She doesn’t even really like tea.

They sit close enough that their knees brush every once in a while, whenever Lan Zhan recrossses her legs and it's enough to send sparks up Wei Ying’s leg, through her sweatpant clad knee. It is the best feeling in the world, she’s sure. And yet, also a special kind of hell to sit here, next to a Goddess and not be able to reach out and touch, to ask for more.

She wishes Lan Zhan wanted more.

But, she’ll take friendship and tea over nothing, so she keeps her complaints to herself and regails Lan Zhan with every funny story she can think of, preening when Lan Zhan smiles at her.

“I had to explain to my professor the entire concept of Star Trek, Lan Zhan. Like I had to sit there in this highly academic room and be all well you see, sir, the entire doctrine of the Prime Directive contradicts everything he just said so that’s really not a suitable analogy to make. And I’m not even the one who brought it up!” she half yells, throwing her hands up in exasperation, “Now I’m the one who looks like some kind of scifi nerd to our professor!”

“Hmm,” Lan Zhan hums, blowing into the steam of her tea, “Wei Ying has seen Star Trek though?”

“Well, yes.”

“A lot of it?”

“I mean, what do you consider a lot? That’s very subjective, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying smiles, working around the statement just to be coy, just to see the faint amusement that lights up Lan Zhan’s eyes.

“Wei Ying.”

“I may or may not have seen all of it, but that is so not the point!” Wei Ying counters, pointing her finger at Lan Zhan just to make her point.

“It seems then,” Lan Zhan starts, taking a sip of her tea, thoroughly uncowed, “that Wei Ying is some kind of ‘scifi nerd.’”

“Lan Zhan!” she squawks, throwing a hand over her heart in faux hurt, “I have never felt more betrayed than in this moment, more hurt, more wounded, more heartbroken.”

“Mn, Wei Ying has had it easy then,” Lan Zhan nods, tracing the rim of her teacup with the tip of her finger, “Someone has to make it more difficult for her. What did you say earlier? It ‘builds character’?”

“Lan Zhan!” she squeezes the hand over her heart more intensely, sighing long and winded, “How could you do this to me, Lan Zhan, your dearest Wei Ying?”

Lan Zhan’s eyes move from roaming over Wei Ying’s face, to glance over her shoulder, widening slightly at whatever she sees. She stands without another word, fumbles with her wallet to drop a note on the table and says, “I must leave now, Wei Ying.”

Lan Zhan leaves without a second glance, turning away from the front entrance which is a much straighter shot out of the cafe and onto the main street, to quite literally sneak out of the side door, that leads only to an alley and a trash can. Wei Ying stares after her, shocked mostly, until she hears the front bell chime. She turns to see a man walk in with dark silky hair, wide shoulders, and well tailored clothes set in a deep blue that compliments his skin perfectly. He wears a warm smile and allows the smaller man next to him to walk ahead, a hand rested firmly but respectfully on the small of his back.

Lan Xichen.

Ah, Wei Ying thinks to herself as it dawns on her, spinning around the spoon in her tea idly, feeling brittle and cracked all at once, she just didn’t want to be seen with me in front of her brother.

That’s fine, it really is. So maybe nothing has really changed since high school. They weren’t friends then and they aren’t now, not really. Wei Ying was foolish to ever get her hopes up for anything more. She 100% understands. She is loud, and talks with her mouth full, and once almost got kicked out of university just a little bit. She should have expected this, if she was being honest with herself.

She still can’t manage to bring the smile back to her face though.

She manages an entire three days of being sad and not drunk before Wen Ning waltzes into her apartment unannounced (when he got a key she will never know) and plies her with long island iced teas.

“She’s just so nice, A-Ning,” Wei Ying moans, face down on the floor, “She’s so nice and pretty, god she’s so pretty A-Ning, and she’s always wearing these skirts, her legs are to die for.”

“But she did not want to be seen with you?” Wen Ning clarifies from where he sits, perched on her couch, leaning over to place another drink next to her head.

“No,” Wei Ying whimpers again, sounding absolutely miserable. She knows she might be acting a bit over dramatic, it's just, she’s known Lan Zhan since she was fourteen, had followed her around then, berating her until she got a reaction. And maybe that had been nothing more than a nuisance to Lan Zhan but it had meant a lot to Wei Ying. Too much probably. She had cried actual tears of joy when she discovered they had both enrolled at the same university, that first semester on campus. And sure maybe they weren’t best friends of anything but Lan Zhan was one hundred percent Wei Ying’s sexual awakening.

And Wei Ying just might be a little, tiny bit in love with her. Or like, on the road to being in love. Very close. In need of only a few kind words and maybe for Lan Zhan to kiss her.

“Hey,” Jiang Cheng snaps from the other side of the room, like actually snaps his fingers at her until she lifts her head to look at him, “Listen, you stupid little peabrain. Stop thinking with your dick and start thinking with your head.”

“I don’t have a dick,” she complains, rubbing her cheek into the carpet, “Maybe if I did, Lan Zhan would be less embarrassed of me.”

That earns her a pillow thrown straight at her head, “Peabrain! If she doesn’t want to be seen with you, that’s not nice.”

“But-”

“Being pretty doesn’t make her nice!”

“She-”

“Having nice legs doesn’t make her nice!”

“But she is nice!” Wei Ying shouts, pushing herself up enough to sit as she stares angrily down at Jiang Cheng, “She lets me sit next to her in class, and smiles when I give her bunnies, and puts up with me whispering to myself while the teacher talks and-”

“All I hear is puts up with and lets me, Wei Wuxian, that’s not what nice is!” Jiang Cheng shouts right back, glaring at her the whole time, “You should waste your time on someone who is actually nice to you.”

“I am.”

“Would you ever let me date someone who was ashamed of me, Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Cheng asks, face serious as he leans in closer to her, “I’m your didi, would you let someone treat me like that? Would you let me treat me like that?”

She doesn’t have a response for that so she lays in silence, staring at the blades of the ceiling fan that spin around and around and around.

“Maybe she is very nice, Wei Ying,” Wen Ning interjects, breaking the silence, reaching one hand out to pet Wei Ying’s hair, “But maybe Wei Ying should be nice to herself too. Do you feel good right now? Have you been nice to yourself?”

“You don’t understand and I don’t want to talk to either of you anymore,” Wei Ying pouts and lets herself drop back to the floor, curling on her side around her phone, “And I just want my fucking pancakes.”

She checks her order status and lo and behold, there they are again. Hanguang Jun.

hanguang jun will u be my wife, she asks and then doubles back, im a lesbian.

Hi, this is DoorDash connecting you to your Dasher for updates about your order. She gets and then, Yes.

yes ull b my wife or yes im a lesbian

Hanguang Jun: Yes, I will be your wife.

thats great!!!!!!! Wei Ying sends back, with exactly the right amount of exclamation points, smiling into her phone screen, hey now that we r married will u stay at my door long enough for me to c u

Hanguang Jun: Hm. Are you intoxicated?

hanguang jun what kind of ? is that!!!!! of course i am!!!! why else do people get food delivered!!!!

Hanguang Jun: For many reasons. If you make it to the door fast enough, you will see me.

hanguang jun!!!!!!!

This time, the knock is a barely there tap that Wei Ying is absolutely sure is on purpose and despite picking herself up and essentially running to the door, she still only manages to catch a glimpse of long hair and a blue shirt.

She opens her food in miserable silence, only breaking out of her gloom when she sees the little note: For my wife. written on the lid of the box. She lets herself focus on that instead of the crushing reality of Lan Zhan’s embarrassment of her, smiling every time she shoves a too big bite of pancake into her mouth.

Rate your dasher: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Monday roles around too soon and the next thing Wei Ying knows, she’s skulking into her criminology class exactly twelve minutes late, staring at the empty seat next to Lan Zhan. The thing is, the fresh sting of it all has soothed into a deep ache, more bearable to wear in public. Now she just finds it all awkward. Like, it’s awkward to just all the sudden ditch out on Lan Zhan and try to find some other non-shitty seat somewhere else, right? But it's also awkward to sit next to Lan Zhan when it seems Lan Zhan doesn’t want that, not really, not publicly.

The walk into the classroom is too short to solve any of these problems, so she just slides into her usual seat, carefully keeping her face forward, keeping to her own space instead of spilling out into the seat over to brush against Lan Zhan. Which is. Fine.

She takes studious notes and never once lets her eyes waver to the seat next to her. It takes a lot of mental energy. When the class is over, she doesn’t bother digging her stuff back into her bag, her only thoughts on how to get out of there as fast as she can, gathering them all into a messy pile in her arms and standing before the professor has even said goodbye.

“Wei Ying,” a quiet voice says next to her, a gentle reaching out to cup the ball of her elbow. Wei Ying takes a single deep breath and turns back around with a hopefully believable smile on her face. The black bunny pen is laid haphazardly across Lan Zhan’s notes. She was still using the pen. Ah, Lan Zhan is so nice, Wei Ying thinks to herself even as she feels her bottom lip wobble dangerously.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, I’m kind of in a rush today, okay? Gotta get going!” she chirps, looking anywhere but the steady hand that still hold her arm. Lan Zhan stares up at her, trying to meet her eyes, sighing when she seems to realize Wei Ying has no intention of looking away from the floor.

“Okay, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan sighs again, letting go of her arm to fold her hands properly across her lap, “I will see you on Wednesday.”

“Yeah, totally, for sure,” Wei Ying chants and skids out of the aisle as fast as she possibly can, never once looking back. She doesn’t see Lan Zhan watch her leave, a tiny confused frown painting her lips.

This time, Wei Ying isn’t even the one to make the first move. She doordashes chocolate and gatorade and mini donuts from the nearest gas station and decides to sulk on her couch until it arrives (and ignore the paper she should be writing. She has time though, it’s not due for another 43 hours).

Her phone chimes from where it rests on the couch next to her, revealing a doordash message.

Hi, this is DoorDash connecting you to your Dasher for updates about your order.

Hanguang Jun: Are you drinking at 10:30 in the morning?

is that judgement i hear, Wei Ying responds, snorting a laugh as she does. Hanguang Jun might just be a fuddy duddy.

Hanguang Jun: We are speaking through an instant messaging service. You do not hear anything.

potato tomato, Wei Ying responds, just to be difficult and then a quick, also no im not drinking im just sad

The pause after this is long, stretching out enough that Wei Ying sets her phone down entirely and turns her attention back to the shitty soap opera she was watching, when the phone dings again.

Hanguang Jun: Why are you sad?

hanguang jun so invasive! She responds with a laugh, adding, i guess u r my wife now it is ur right to know

Hanguang Jun: Mn. Have to keep track of you.

hanguang jun! Wei Ying would yell if they were talking in person. Hell, she yells now into the fabric of her pillow, ur making me blush

Hanguang Jun: Good.

anyways, Wei Ying directs, because it seems otherwise they’ll just keep going in a circle of Wei Ying blushing and Hangunag Jun being, well, whatever it is they are being, there is a girl.

Hanguang Jun: A girl?

a perfect girl. the best, most beautiful girl, way out of my league, Wei Ying explains, hoping that with this fresh new person she can convey just how wonderful Lan Zhan is, seeing as how that didn’t go over well with Jiang Cheng and Wen Ning (although, Wei Ying is pretty sure Jiang Cheng has hated Lan Zhan since high school, she’s just not ready to unpack that yet), but she doesnt like me back. or like at all really i dont think she even wants to be friends with me

Hanguang Jun: You are sure of this?

yes!!!! Wei Ying sends back, rapid fire, she presents all of the wei-ying-is-annoying vibes

Hanguang Jun: And what, exactly, are the ‘Wei Ying is annoying vibes’?

well thats just too much to answer theres so many, Wei Ying, sinking deeper and deeper into the crest of her couch; this conversation is definitely not making her feel better the way she hoped it would.

Hanguang Jun: Hm. This seems unlikely.

unlikely????

Hanguang Jun: Mn. Wei Ying is a delight to be around, impossible to dislike her.

hanGUANG JUN

Hanguang Jun: Then how do you expect someone to show they like you? Romantically speaking.

oh thats easy, she types, thinking about the things she wants Lan Zhan to say to her, just ask me to get food really. im always down for food i think its a good first date, so if i say no to that i definitely dont like u lol

Hm, is all Hanguang Jun has left to say so Wei Ying goes back to being sad on her couch and dutifully waits for her cool blue gatorade and kitkat bar, not even bothering to run to the door when she hears the knock. She’s fairly positive Hanguang Jun isn’t planning on waiting around for her anyways. She still rates her five stars though; doesn’t want to fuck up her rating or whatever.

She repeats her routine, slinking into class late and trying her very hardest not to be a nuisance to Lan Zhan, leaning in the opposite direction and keeping her elbows to herself. Better to not annoy the other girl anymore than she already has. She thinks back to the beginning of the semester, when she’d draped herself all over Lan Zhan, happy and sure of herself, only now all she hears over the memory is Lan Zhan’s voice, angry and disappointed as she calls Wei Ying shameless.

Wei Ying does, in fact, have shame. A lot of it. Too much of it. Enough to keep her quiet and complacent for the hour and twenty minutes she must sit beside Lan Zhan knowing well enough the other girl doesn’t even respect her enough to be seen with her in public.

She tries to slip out of class as quickly as possible but there is Lan Zhan’s hand again, shooting out to grab her and pull her back.

“Wei Ying,” she says, eyebrows furrowing in that way they always do when she’s stressed about something. It takes all of Wei Wuxian’s restraint to not reach out and soothe the taught skin there back into place. Would Lan Zhan like that? Be okay with Wei Ying touching her like that in front of everyone? “I would like to ask you a question.”

“Oh,” Wei Ying nods to herself, fingers digging into the notebook she holds tight against her chest, “Is it about the homework? Ah, Lan Zhan you know you’re better at this than I am anyways.”

“It is not about the homework, no,” Lan Zhan shakes her head, looking solemn, shoulders drawn up as she rises from her seat, her bag resting over her shoulder, neatly packed up like she’s geared up to make a quick getaway too, “Would you like to get pancakes with me?”

Even the word makes her sweat. All the nights she’s spent eating pancakes (they’re her go to drunken craving) only to throw up the surgery sweetness later, to feel it twisting around in her alcohol burned stomach, acid and sugar making her raw and dizzy and nauseated; so good when she’s eating them under an alcohol induced haze and utterly ruined for her when she’s sober.

“Oh,” she says, shaking her head, “No, I don’t like pancakes.”

Wei Ying’s mouth is still open, about to suggest a different option, when Lan Zhan’s whole face shutters in a range of emotions Wei Ying can’t dare to name, and ends in smooth porcelain, eyes no longer meeting Wei Ying’s own, but staring past her likes she burns to look at.

“I see,” Lan Zhan says in a tone so flat, Wei Ying feels a little hysterical, what does she see what does she see, “Goodbye, Wei Ying.”

Lan Zhan is out of the classroom before Wei Ying can grab her, though she calls to her long after she loses sight of Lan Zhan’s baby blue scrunchy, lost in the crowd of undergrads milling about, always in Wei Ying’s way.

Lan Zhan had looked at her like Wei Ying had said exactly what she’d feared only that didn’t make sense. How could Wei Ying have let her down when Lan Zhan had no hopes for her to begin with?

She drinks with Nie Huaisang that night and orders food and some random named Athony delivers it to her. She doesn’t opt to message him.

She only eats half of her pancakes, feeling incredibly abandoned and incredibly lonely.

On Monday she gets to class early. Like actually early, as in fifteen minutes before the class is even scheduled to begin, not just on time. It’s a first for her and she’s very proud. She’d hoped that Lan Zhan wouldn’t be there yet, that she could set up her stuff in peace and then when Lan Zhan came into the classroom she could see where Wei Ying was and decide if she wanted to sit next to her or not. She’d looked so upset on Wednesday, afterall.

But, of course, Lan Zhan is already there.

She looks gorgeous from where she sits, posture straight, perfect, shoulders drawn back making her look confident. Untouchable. Her makeup is lightly done and perfectly applied, lips shiny with tinted chapstick, notebook ready on her desk, bunny pen laid gently on top of that. And in the spot next to her, Wei Ying’s seat, rests her bag, taking up the entirety of the table, a warning to all intruders.

Wei Ying walks up extra slowly, trying to determine whether or not she is welcome, tiptoeing her way down the aisle, hoping Lan Zhan won’t look at her, hoping she will.

“Is this seat taken?” she asks, her voice nothing more than a whisper, not loud enough for others to hear, ready to be hurt.

“It is Wei Ying’s seat,” Lan Zhan replies instead, keeping her eyes on the ground even as her hand reaches out to pull it out of Wei Ying’s way. This is the first time Wei Ying has seen it up close, has gotten to see the little cloud patterns, the letters embroidered into the fabric, spelling out, h a n g u -

Hanguang Jun.

Hanguang Jun!!!

“Hanguang Jun?” she blurts out before she can stop herself, “You, you’re...”

“Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan asks, only now looking up at her, that same confused furrow to her brow, “It is my nickname, from high school, from the-”

“From the volleyball team,” Wei Ying nods with dawning horror, “You are you, do you, Lan Zhan, was that you the whole time?”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, nods to herself really, as if the simple act of saying her name provided comfort, “I thought you knew.”

“I didn’t, I thought, I didn’t know,” she finishes lamely, feeling her cheeks burn as she thinks back to all the things she had sent to Hanguang Jun. She looks down at the bag to keep her eyes focused elsewhere and remembers, “Hey it’s on my desk.”

“Yes?” Lan Zhan replies, though it feels like more of a question.

“Have you been saving me a seat this whole time? Is that how I managed to get a good seat this whole semester, even though I was late everyday?”

Lan Zhan’s ears go red, stark against the black hair tucked behind them, but she nods firmly, unashamed, “It is Wei Ying’s seat.”

“You, you actually, you wanted me to sit next to you?” Wei Ying asks, feeling only halfway hysterical, “I didn’t force myself on you? You’re not embarrassed to be seen with me?”

Lan Zhan’s frown deepens at this, angry, “Could never be embarrassed of Wei Ying.”

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan-” Wei Ying begins, only to be cut off by their professor.

“Everyone, please take a seat,” Professor Whoever The Hell says, making eye contact with Wei Ying and she sits down, utterly stunned.

“Lan Zhan,” she whispers when he turns around, “Can we talk after class?”

Lan Zhan looks at her for a long time then, calculating, assessing, before nodding her head with a firm, “Mn.”

Before either of them can escape, Wei Ying tangles her fingers with Lan Zhan’s and drags her out of the class behind her, pulling her into a little alcove surrounded by trees with little dangly purple flowers. It would be pretty on any other day when Wei Ying doesn’t feel like she’s about to burst out of her rib cage.

“Lan Zhan, it was you the whole time?” she asks again, still a little dazed from that realization.

“Yes, Wei Ying,” she nods, still hiding her eyes from Wei Ying, “Was certain you knew, thought you were...”

“You thought I was??” Wei Ying urges, a hand reaching out for Lan Zhan before she can stop herself.

“Thought you were flirting with me,” Lan Zhan admits, in nothing louder than a whisper, shaking her head as she does, “It is stupid.”

“It wasn’t!” Wei Ying half shouts, throwing her hands in the air, “It wasn’t, it wasn’t, Lan Zhan, I promise.”

“You did not know it was me, and...” Lan Zhan trails off again, wringing her hands together in front of her. It is the most unsure of herself Wei Ying has ever seen her; it breaks her heart just to watch.

“And what? Lan Zhan, you have to tell me,” Wei Ying all out begs, gasping when Lan Zhan’s eyes finally raise to meet her own; they’re red rimmed and miserable.

“Wei Ying said no,” she says after a long while, lips twisting in a grimace, “Wei Ying said no to food, so she definitely doesn’t like me.”

“I didn’t say no to you!” Wei Ying shouts, loud enough to attract the attention of passersby, “I said no to pancakes, not you!”

“Wei Ying, please, do not patronize me,” Lan Zhan resists, eyes hardening even though she is still clearly sad. God, how could Wei Ying have missed how sad she was? “I have been delivering pancakes to Wei Ying for weeks.”

“That’s exactly it!” Wei Ying rushes out, one hand shooting out to wrap around Lan Zhan’s wrist like she’s afraid the other girl might run away, “That’s what drunk me eats! And I always, always get sick, Lan Zhan! I can’t eat them when I’m sober, I’ll puke!”

“You...don’t like pancakes,” Lan Zhan repeats, working the words around her mouth like she’s trying to make sense of them, “But you do like...me.”

“Yes! Lan Zhan I like you so much! And I would’ve asked you out sooner!” she shouts again, and then realizes where she’s led this conversation. The shame burns in her cheeks so she focuses on digging the tip of her shoe into the ground, “I would’ve asked you out, but I thought you were embarrassed to be seen with me.”

The words still taste bitter in her mouth, ache in her throat and burn her cheeks but she’s said them, they’re out in the open and now they can deal with them. She expects a scoff, maybe an eye roll. She does not expect two soft hands to cup her cheeks, forcing her to look up, rubbing soothing circles into the skin there.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan scolds, “Could never be embarrassed of you. Wei Ying is...Wei Ying is everything.”

“But you, you hid. From your brother and Meng Yao and Nie Mingjue, because you were,” her mouth twists uncomfortably at this, the memory of being abandoned in the cafe fresh enough to hurt her feelings, “because you were with me.”

“Ah,” Lan Zhan says, the tips of her ears turning red again. Good, Wei Ying thinks, We can be embarrassed together, “That was not...because of you, more like...about you.”

“Huh?”

“Brother is...he likes...” Lan Zhan trails off, letting one of her hands drop from Wei Ying’s cheek to her neck and Wei Ying is not about to let her get away just like that so she reaches out her own hand, grabbing onto Lan Zhan’s hip and dragging her closer. This seems to make Lan Zhan release all of her tension at once; a full body shudder goes through her as she dives into the crevice of Wei Ying’s neck, hiding there, safe, and mumbles something completely unintelligible.

“What was that, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asks, petting a single hand down Lan Zhan’s back through her hair and up again.

“Brother likes to tease,” Lan Zhan breathes into Wei Ying’s skin, one hand digging tight into Wei Ying’s ribcage, “He knows of my...feelings for you, if he had seen us at the cafe he would have, and Wei Ying I was sure you didn’t, there was no...reciprocation.”

“Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, you hid because you didn’t want to get teased?” Wei Ying laughs, delighted, as she pulls back from Lan Zhan to get a good look at her, eyes sparkling, “Lan Zhan, that’s so cute.”

Lan Zhan dives back into her shoulder and bites in retaliation, muttering, “Wei Ying is cuter.”

Wei Ying lets her stay there for awhile, petting her hair and wiggling as close as she can get before finally asking, “Hey, you wanna get some food with me?”

Lan Zhan draws back to look over Wei Ying’s face and must like what she sees there because she smiles and presses a half kiss to the corner of Wei Ying’s mouth and nods her head, “Only if Wei Ying will be my girlfriend.”

“Aiyah, Lan Zhan, didn’t I already propose to you?” Wei Ying laughs, laughs even louder when Lan Zhan blushes again. She wags her finger in Lan Zhan’s face, trying her best to look stern, “Don’t think you can back out of our marriage so soon, wife.”

Lan Zhan bites her finger and keeps it there, warm between her teeth, only digging in harder at Wei Ying’s cry of indignation.

“Lan Zhan, you monster, you monster,” Wei Ying laughs, wiggling her finger still on the inside of Lan Zhan’s lips, “Hey, Lan Zhan, you should let go of my finger.”

“Hm.”

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, I can’t kiss you with my finger in the way,” she whines, even as Lan Zhan lets go and moves forward, “Would you deprive your poor wife like this? I waited so long for you-”

Lan Zhan, it turns out, tastes like strawberry chapstick.

Four Months Later

Wei Ying wakes up warm and sated, a leg thrown over her waist, a hand slipped inside her shirt, resting casually against the skin of her back, a heavy body breathing softly, rhythmically against her chest.

The moon is still high in the night sky, washing the room in pale silver-white light, turning the skin on Lan Zhan’s neck into cream sheets, soft beneath Wei Ying’s touch. She’s breathing out little huffs of air, dampening the collar of Wei Ying’s sleep shirt but Wei Ying could never find it within herself to complain. Not when she gets this; Lan Wangji safe and content in her bed, never hesitant, never ashamed to pull Wei Ying into her chest and hold her there for hours. To hold Wei Ying as close as she can, like she’s something special. Something important.

Wei Ying still can eat sober pancakes, she muses as she rubs slow circles into Lan Zhan’s shoulder, thinking about what they’ll eat in the morning when Lan Zhan inevitably drags her out of bed way too early to be considered normal, seat her at their table still wrapped in a blanket, and feeds her warm foods and coffee.

There are other foods to be eaten though, a never ending list of things to be enjoyed with Lan Zhan right there beside her.

“Hey, Lan Zhan, I’m really glad you brought me pancakes,” Wei Ying whispers, dragging one of her legs up to slot nicely between Lan Zhan’s, “And I’m glad you make me eggs and congee and potatoes when I’m not drunk.”

Lan Zhan doesn’t reply to this, obviously, still huffing peacefully against Wei Ying’s chest. She starts again, rubbing circles into Lan Zhan’s back, “Hey, Lan Zhan, I’m glad you’re not embarrassed of me. I’m glad you let me kiss you even if your brother is around.”

She presses a kiss to the top of Lan Zhan’s head then rubs her nose against the hair there, still smelling fresh with shampoo.

“Hey, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whispers to the ceiling, knowing it is well past Lan Zhan’s bedtime and she’s not usually one to sleep in fits and starts, “Lan Zhan, I love you.”

Lan Zhan’s face rubs against Wei Ying’s chest like a cat, lips catching on the fabric of Wei Ying’s shirt when she whispers back, “I love you too.”

(Wei Ying still gets drunk pancakes. She saves a minor fortune on never using the app again though; instead she lets Lan Zhan wrangle her into the passenger seat of her car, buckled in and safe, while Lan Zhan drives them to the local iHop. She lets Lan Zhan manhandle her into a booth and feed her bits of pancake and fruit, never too much, never enough to make her sick the way she would have had she been on her own. Lan Zhan always takes such good care of her; these pancakes taste better than any Wei Ying has ever had in her life.)

Coda:

“Hey, Lan Zhan, isn’t your family, like, rich?” Wei Ying asks, swinging their threaded hands in between them as they march to the nearest cafe, both of them glowing in the sunlight, happy, “Why were you running for DoorDash in the first place?”

“My family is well off,” Lan Zhan confirms politely, all while Wei Ying thinks to herself Yes, exactly what a rich person would say, “But there are things my Uncle does not approve of, and for that I prefer to use my own money so that he does not have a place to stand in telling me no.”

“Lan Zhan, how devious!” Wei Ying delights, leaning in to press an excited kiss to Lan Zhan’s cheek, “So what’d you get? Something cool? Dirty? Lavish? Tell me, Lan Zhan!”

“Bunnies,” Lan Zhan replies, cheeks speckled soft pink.

“Bunnies?” Wei Ying asks, head cocked to the side.

“Bunnies,” Lan Zhan confirms, nodding her head, “Uncle does not approve of pets but I approve of having bunnies and wanted two of my own.”

“Lan Zhan, stop, I’m going to die of cuteness,” Wei Ying whines, burying her face into Lan Zhan’s shoulder to moan more properly.

“Your repeat business helped to adopt them and purchase their housing,” Lan Zhan continues on because she is mean and has no sympathy for Wei Ying’s plight.

“Them? As in multiple?”

“Mm,” Lan Zhan nods, fishing her phone out of her pocket, “Their names are Fluffball and Pancake, would you like to see?”

“Would I like to, oh my god,” Wei Ying shouts, looking at a picture of Lan Zhan cuddled up with two rabbits, looking soft and content. One of them is snowy white, tail big and bushy, like a little snowball in and of itself. She guesses that one is Fluffball. The other is light brown, slightly bigger than the last and very, how does she nicely put this, round. That one must be Pancake. Wei Ying is absolutely not ready to guess the implication of the bunny being named Pancake. She is going to die, “Lan Zhan, I am going to die. You’re going to kill me. How are you so cute?”

“Wei Ying will be fine,” Lan Zhan reassures, placing a hand on the small of her back to lead Wei Ying along, “Promise to keep Wei Ying safe.”

“Lan Zhan!”

#wangxian #wei wuxian #wei ying #lan zhan #lan wangji #fem wangxian #rule 63 #modern setting #wen qing #wen ning #jiang cheng #my writing #my fics #jiangchengrights

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